Fear
by AV21
Summary: Collection of post-ep/missing scene/generally related one-shots, each tied to a line from the Pauley Perrette song, "Fear".
1. Scared of the Dark?

**Rating:** K+ (Thus far, we'll see if it gets upped.)

**Disclaimer:** All I own is my laptop, and lots of books. Lots and lots of books.

**Genre:** Character Studies, Gen

**What in the World is Going on Here:** I happened across the Pauley Perrette song "Fear" from the NCIS soundtrack a little bit ago (yes, I know, I'm way behind the times). It has rapidly become one of my fav songs (highly recommended for running). Then the plot-bunnies wouldn't shut up, and here we are.

This is a collection of post-ep/missing scene/just barely related one-shots, each coming from somewhere between seasons 3-7 (haven't seen 1&2), and each tied to a line from "Fear." The POV and focus switches from story to story, with no real pairing, and no real contiguous plot, but I've done my best to stick to canon. Where possible I'll point out who'll be doing the talking and who they're talking about, just in case you can't stand to read certain POVs. I'll also remind you of the eps, and when applicable I'll even give you a time stamp for certain scenes. I figure I'm bouncing around enough I ought to tell you where in the world we are.

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5x06 – Chimera - Team goes to investigate a death on Black Ops Sub. The crew has abandoned ship, and it seems another airborne pathogen in on the loose. Gibbs and the Gang (plus Ducky) try to figure out what killed the sailor and what in the world is going on on the sub.

* * *

**"Are You Scared of the Dark?"**

McGee was man enough to admit that he wasn't a big fan of the dark. Not _afraid _of the dark, just not a fan. His younger sister used to think it was hilarious to jump out of his closet screaming bloody murder, right when he was about to fall asleep. He'd never been entirely comfortable with the dark after that.

Tim didn't mind sleeping-dark, or mood-dark (and yes, he did know what _mood_ dark was, he owned candles), though watching-movies-in-the-apartment-dark was his favorite. Mainly because movies-dark and typing-dark were the same level of dark. Not that Tim would ever admit to Tony that he'd run tests to determine which lighting, desk placement, and typewriter paper inspired him most. Which is how he knew movie-lighting and typing-lighting were exactly the same. And no, he didn't have all those lighting levels programmed into his remote. Promise.

But this wasn't a level of dark he was used to. This wasn't the sudden onslaught of dark that came from tracking a criminal through an alleyway. This was haunted-submarine-dark. This was Gibbs having him break into a biohazard room, _alone_, on a haunted submarine, dark.

He was perfectly fine with being really quite terrified at this moment. And not even Tony would be able to make him feel stupid about it.

Ziva's whole speech about believing in ghosts took him completely by surprise and made him nervous. Ziva was one of those people you expected to be absolutely rational. He thought that after all her years killing people she would've been thoroughly grounded in reality. But apparently Ziva believed in ghosts. She didn't believe in miracles, but she believed in ghosts. McGee would take a moment to ponder that irony later.

McGee jumped at another groan from the surrounding metal of the ship, looking around for what in the world was still causing the noises. It was just the metal contracting in the cooler water. That was it. Ships made noises. Not scary at all. Completely rational.

He'd been expecting Tony to tease Ziva a bit more about the belief in ghosts, but Tony was so ramped up about the possible lethal airborne pathogen that he was getting close to useless. Tim had noticed that impending death by gunfire or car bomb didn't seem to bother DiNozzo near as much as the thought of spending his last days on his back, gasping for air. It wasn't the dark, or even the death that got to Tony, it was having nothing to fight but himself. Tony would probably be relieved to have a ghost to yell at instead of nothing.

The ship moaned again and this time McGee popped up to check the surrounding hallways. Just to, ya know, due diligence and all that. Boss would never forgive him if there _was_ someone on the ship and he missed them.

And no, he wasn't checking for ghosts. He didn't believe in ghosts. Tim believed in things that could be tested, quantified, proven. He'd had several ex-girlfriends try and argue with him that there were plenty of things that couldn't be proven, but McGee always had always proven them wrong. Mind you, the girls were never keen on going on another date after that, but McGee hadn't yet found a girl he liked enough to ignore a good set of facts. Abby came close, but that might have had something to do with her own love of facts.

A girlfriend had talked about how you couldn't prove love, which McGee had actually laughed at. (Yeah, the girl didn't find it very funny.) But come on, the girl obviously hadn't ever been in a life-threatening situation before. Tony had teased the hell out of Tim and Kate, and made them uncomfortable at every turn, which to any outside observer should prove how little a regard he had for them. But before Tim completely lost his temper any time Tony ran smack, he remembered that Tony had sent him and Kate running while he got himself blown up. Yeah, love could be proven.

Another girl wasn't at all comfortable with McGee's borderline atheism. She made the case that faith couldn't be tested. She'd done better than most, but all Tim could think about was Gibb's answer every time someone went missing. They weren't dead, because Gibbs would know. He was so absolutely sure, that you couldn't help but believe him. And the few times Tim had been on the lost side of the table, they never gave up. Because no matter what, Gibbs would save them. It was just something they _knew_. Tim was sure of faith too.

He'd never been able to come up with a decent answer about whether he believed in an afterlife, though. He knew he wanted to believe, he wanted Kate happy somewhere, and he wanted Gibbs to see Shannon and Kelly again. He wanted all the pain to be worth it, to get some great cosmic reward beyond good kharma for putting the bad guys in prison.

Tony didn't believe, Tim was sure of that. Tony was too scared to grow old and die to really believe there was something waiting for him. And McGee would've bet his life savings that after all that death Ziva wasn't a believer either, but apparently he would've been wrong. Another contradiction he'd leave for discussion in the pages of his next book.

The more death Tim saw, the harder it got to believe there was goodness out there. Sure, it was here, in his team, but it felt like there was less and less of it in the world surrounding them. Like the fight against all that evil was getting more and more uphill. He couldn't prove a life after this one, but he hoped.

How thoroughly unscientific of him. His professors at MIT would have scorned him if they would see him now, mulling the existence of an afterlife because he was afraid of being attacked by ghosts while trying to break into classified navy operations.

The ship moaned at him again, and Tim decided to start paying more attention to the lock he was picking. Ghosts or no ghosts, Tim didn't want proof to the answer to the afterlife question until later. Preferably a wife, several children, and lots of medals later.


	2. Afraid They'll Break Your Heart?

4x03 – Singled Out - Gibbs comes back to the team to stay after his retirement, getting Tony demoted back to lead agent. Jenny tells Tony he did such a good job as a Team Lead that she offered him his own team in Rota, Spain.

* * *

**2. "Are you Afraid They'll Break Your Heart?"**

The day might have sucked less if Jenny hadn't offered Tony the job. Not that getting offered your own team (in warm, sunny, _Spain_, no less) was ever a bad thing, but the difference between the high of his morning and the low of his afternoon just screwed over the whole day.

It was the Lead of an NCIS team, I mean, how was he supposed to say no to that? He bounced back and forth between going and staying for the next few days.

Tony told himself that everything in DC would be fine without him. Told himself that the sensation in his gut saying Gibbs needed him around, was wrong. He could go off to Spain without any guilt – buy bootleg DVDs, send Abby postcards from all over Europe, get a tan, maybe pick up a new language, all sorts of wonderful things. He'd get himself almost talked into going, pull out his phone to call Jenny and tell her he was in, and then Gibbs would do something stupid.

Not that Gibbs ever did anything stupid, just, ya know, less Gibbs-like.

At the beginning Tony thought he was just having trouble adjusting back to life as the right hand man, which he was, but Gibbs wasn't making it any easier. Though, Tony did have to admit there were a few times when he answered questions directed at the boss-man just to piss Gibbs off. More fun that way. Insubordinate but loyal, very Agent J from Men in Black. After all, he couldn't just make it easy on Gibbs.

The man had run off and left his team for beer and beaches. Which was, by the way, not what Tony was doing. They were completely different situations, thank you very much. Tony was still doing the job, still saving the world, just from a much warmer locale. Not that Tony felt really justified in the explanation himself, but he figured it would be a decent defense when Abby thundered in demanding an explanation.

Gibbs made the job offer all the more appealing by making Tony feel like a fool plenty of times over the course of the day, which only got worse with the Boss' sudden desire to think McGoober could do no wrong. Then the new favorite went and basically told Tony to go and get his own team, like with Tony as Lead the team _hadn't_ closed every case, or Tony _hadn't _been letting Ziva drive (no matter what she said to the contrary), or he _hadn't_ almost caught a bullet in the chest for Probie a few weeks back. Suddenly every good thing he'd done in the last few months just up and vanished in a puff of steam from Gibbs' coffee.

Probie knew he'd pushed the joke too far, but DiNozzo kept walking. He went for a walk, and for the umpteenth time that day he pulled out his phone to dial Jenny. He almost made it that time, but a call from Abby interrupted. She started saying calling the 'hinky' moustache the source of alterna-Gibbs' power, and they had to figure out how to shave it off. Something about "we'll lace a bottle of Jack with sleeping pills, but, no, he'd probably be able to smell that. We could, wait … no, he'd kill us. Or worse, destroy my iPod and make me listen to Country! Tony, this is terrible! Stop whatever you're doing and get back to the office right now! We need a plan!"

After which she hung up for about ten seconds before calling back and demanding pizza and Caf-Pow. Their lunch started with Abby complaining how McGee had suddenly transformed into the golden child, which was an angst Tony tried to passively share because if Tony mentioned Gibbs liking him less now, Abby felt the need to hug him and tell him she was sure he was overreacting. Tony didn't think he could take a hug from Abs without spilling his guts about the job offer.

From there Abs told Tony how everything was wrong in a universe where Gibbs didn't kiss her forehead at least once a day, and Gibbs hadn't even thought about it today. After all these years, Tony knew every step to this dance – when to empathize, when to tease, when to calm, and when to distract. By the time Tony left, Abs was in a much better mood, and Tony's guilt was again rearing its ugly head. Who would Abby talk to about Gibbs being a bastard when Tony was gone? And if this newfound infatuation McPerfect kept up, Abs would need someone to vent to about not being the undisputed favorite.

Abby _could_ vent by phone, though. And if she ever got really irritated, he could take a weekend off and meet her Paris. Gibbs could be as hinky as he damn well wanted, so long as when Abby got too fed up she could tour Europe with Tony in tow.

That was the pendulum swing for the 72 hours Tony had to decide. Little un-Gibbs-like quirks would pop up, and Tony's gut would start churning. Then he'd ignore it and start telling himself all the wonderful reasons to run off to Spain, which usually included whatever Team trait had started up his guilt in the first place.

The part of him that wanted his own team was kicking the trash out of the part that felt the need to stow his ambition and sit in that bullpen while everyone found a way to tell him he wasn't as good as Gibbs.

Then the whole thing went to hell in a handbasket. Gibbs called Ducky, 'Dr. Mallard.'

Tony couldn't leave after that. Not kissing Abs on the forehead was one thing, but Gibbs fighting with Ducky? The two of them were liable to bring the whole damn building down around them.

Today he'd had Gibbs kick around his ego, Ziva laugh at him, McGee reject him, Abby stress him, and Ducky scare him. But he was staying anyway.

They didn't seem to actually want him here today, but he still needed to look after them. This was his team, his family, and Gibbs was his Boss. Who really needed sun, or an awesome title, or people who respected you, or at least didn't laugh at you, or … well, shit.

But he was staying anyway.


	3. Afraid You'll Lose Yourself?

A/N: Apologies for the delay. The story I thought would be #3 turned out to not fit at all once I got it all settled, meaning I had to find something that fit, then write it. And, of course, this one didn't come easy. So, as part of my apology, I offer up two chapters and the desperate hope we don't come across this problem again, because really, that's just rude. ;)

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**3. Are You Afraid You'll Lose Yourself?**

3x21 – Bloodbath – The one where the team finds out that Abby's ex-boyfriend has been stalking her, and they think he's been trying to kill her.

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Abby didn't _do_ self doubt. She thought it was a waste of energy to spend your time pretending to be anything other than what you are. Usually. Today however, there was a lot to doubt herself for. She was lost, and terrified, and guilty, and considering she was trapped in Gibbs's basement until her crazy, psycho, stalker left her alone, the only thing to do was drink.

She'd learned a long time ago that calling Gibbs and Tony protective was an understatement, like _huge_ understatement. They were both crazy territorial, alpha males, who alone could be scarier than all get out, but together they were a force of nature. Usually cases weren't serious enough for Tony to stow his playful side, which is what kept everyone else balanced out, but someone coming after Abby, that was enough for Tony to screw team balance and shift straight into the serious investigator guy that he kept tucked inside.

There were a few, blissful minutes where Abby thought the whole mess had just been the result of a rookie accident, which was embarrassing enough, but then the guys had to blow that theory all to hell. Gibbs and Tony burst into autopsy doing that superhero and sidekick, matched stride walk thing they did when they thought it was time to ignore balance.

Abby remembered not really liking Tony until the first time he and Gibbs burst into her office in synch like that – finishing one another's thoughts, pacing around the office and shifting into the negative space left by the other like they were dancing, venting all this pent up, alpha male irritation, and really, quite possibly, being the sexiest thing Abby had ever seen. (And it totally didn't hurt Tony's status that despite being wounded and bloody later that afternoon, he still got into a yelling match with Gibbs about how, 'No Boss, getting shot for you wasn't stupid!' Really, it was _awesome_. She thought Gibbs's eyebrows were going to raise right off his face.)

And then, there was this one time … wait. That's not what she was supposed to be thinking about. Stupid bourbon, made everything fuzzy. Wait no, fuzzy was good.

Fuzzy meant she didn't have to remember her pseudo-interrogation by Tony and Gibbs. As cool as it was to watch the both of them get all feral and protective, Abby didn't like it so much when it was directed at her. She'd seen them interrogate people before, usually while one of them was the straight man and the other did the questioning (their own variation on good cop-bad cop that she called friendly cop-stoic cop). But this time they had both gone all out.

Tony paced behind her, just venturing far enough out to the side to flash in her peripheral vision and up her blood pressure. Gibbs took the frontal assault and just stared her down, making her feel, like he usually did, that he was staring into her soul and seeing every stupid thing she'd ever done. Considering Gibbs used that look on her everyday, it really shouldn't have made her that uncomfortable, but the Gibbs-look, coupled with pacing-Tony made her twitch with sympathy for all those perps they'd done this to.

That was when the whole stupid self doubt turned on. Really, she should be mad at the both of them for putting all that information about her ex out there in front her friends. She knew from all those cop movies she'd watched with Tony that they were just putting pressure on her to guilt her into spilling, but that didn't change the fact that it sucked. Mikel had been a bad call, a seriously bad call, and she didn't _want_ everyone to know that she'd screwed up. She'd been trying for almost a year to fix the whole stupid thing, and she didn't need anyone to know about it until the whole thing was fixed!

She tried to avoid meeting Gibbs's eyes, hoping that something would happen to make him just. Stop. STARING at her. Didn't work though. In fact, at the moment she thought she couldn't take his gaze anymore, Gibbs threw down the hammer.

He leaned over with his face close to hers, getting all in her space so she would have to look at him. She didn't though. She felt guilty for choosing a guy like Mikel, guilty for screwing him up, guilty for not telling Gibbs, and guilty for bringing him into their house. She didn't want Gibbs seeing that. She told him that she hadn't brought up Mikel because she didn't want him beating him with a baseball bat, and it was true! She didn't need the guilt of whatever Gibbs would've done to Mikel floating around with her guilt for causing this mess.

Abby remembered being warned about Gibbs on her first day. Everyone assumed that the rather traditional gunny wouldn't take to the quite perky goth. They all didn't get it. Just like Abby knew who she was, Gibbs knew who he was, and he was perfectly content to let everyone else in the world be whoever in the hell they were, so long as they didn't break the law or annoy him too much. Gibbs had never cared what she wore so long as she stayed fearless, because that's what she was.

Abs felt the same way about him. He was an overprotective, controlling, bastard, but despite all that, he had kind eyes. She'd seen them the moment he walked into her lab, and that's all she needed to know. That overprotective side of Gibbs was coming off in waves now, and he was close to the end of his rope at the thought that _whatever_ decision Abs had made, she didn't trust herself, or him, enough to just come out with it. She'd betrayed them both, and Gibbs didn't like that. At all.

She sucked it up and told Gibbs the truth then. She didn't tell Gibbs because she didn't want a baseball bat taken to Mikel. (Sometimes just because baseball bat evidence was surprisingly hard to cover up.)

Gibbs pulled back from her after that, giving her room to breath. Partially a reward for telling him the truth, but mainly to get his brain to a place where he wouldn't actually find a reason to put a bullet in Mikel just because he felt like it when they went to question him. Abby did her best to look Gibbs in the eye, trying to pretend like this wasn't on the list of worst decisions she'd ever made and he didn't really need to storm in and clean anything up for her.

Her words weren't going to do anything – she could see it in his eyes. Gibbs had dropped all the way into Papa Bear mode, and there was no talking to him at this point. She wasn't going to win with Gibbs, but she caught Tony's eye as Gibbs stormed out with his senior agents. She tried with one desperate look across autopsy to convey to Tony how bad she felt about this whole thing, and that she didn't want Gibbs to get any angrier. It was a testament to how well matched they were that Tony knew exactly what she was asking him. She knew it would be hard for him, Tony wanted to go postal just a much as Gibbs did, but he couldn't turn down Abby. He paused for a moment, then winked, and Abby knew she wouldn't have to hide any evidence for their homicide trials.

That was how the rest of the investigation went. Gibbs was allowed to rampage in full scary-bossman mode, with everyone else running around trying to crack the case before he killed them, and Tony drew fire. He went with Gibbs to talk to Metro (meaning Gibbs leaned against the wall and scared them with his glower while Tony made nice), then Tony combed through Mikel's apartment (meaning he went so Gibbs wouldn't have a chance to smash anything with that ever-present baseball bat).

Knowing that she had successfully brought Tony back from Gibbs-land to handle things gave Abby the chance to freak out properly without being worried about _more_ damage to the team. Which, of course, considering the run of trouble she was causing, led to Tony having to protect McGee from death by lack of rolly chair because _she'd_ messed up. It was totally Abby's fault that Mikel had gotten into the apartment in the first place, all because she wasn't worried enough about it. She was being stalked! And now the psycho was threatening her team!

It was too much. Maybe she shouldn't have reined Tony in, because knowing that he would take care of Gibbs while Gibbs took care of everything else just gave her the opportunity to be paralyzed.

So she hid in the elevator, like the mature adult she was. It was totally rational! Five out of 2 ½ million were excellent odds, right up until she factored time into the calculation. She blamed the switch on the math, but really, she got out of the elevator because she didn't feel the need to be in there anymore. Sure, she still felt guilty and terrified, but once you've had Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs snuggle up with you in an elevator and tell you everything will be okay, it's hard to be scared of anything. Especially when he didn't pull away or look even a little bit flustered when Jimmy caught them snuggling.

Really, Gibbs had tamped down all the fear and made everything almost better. Right until Mikel had to go and break into the Navy Yard and quash any sense of safety she had stored up. Gibbs saw her spiraling out of control and took her straight to his basement.

The guilt got heavy again, and Abby decided that if this stupid guilt and doubt weren't going to go away, she could at least make it shut up for a while. She broke into Gibbs's secret bourbon stash, drank a lot, took a shower, kept drinking, raided his fridge (all Gibbs owned was steak), kept drinking, found her way to Gibbs's basement, and drank some more.

Really, alcohol probably wasn't the best life choice at the moment. It was making her nauseous, and her hand didn't seem to be doing what she told it to with the sander. And alcohol really _was_ a depressant, and judging from Gibbs's preference for bourbon, it totally had to be a really good depressant.

And apparently it made her ramble. Because she just couldn't stop talking. The fear was fuzzy, like everything else, but it was still there. Mikel had gone absolutely insane and could've done damage to some of the people she loved most in the world. She couldn't take it anymore. She'd started this whole stupid thing and now her friends were paying the price for it! The guilt just wouldn't go away. No matter how fuzzy it got. Was still there, being, ya know, depressing, and … there.

Damn she was drunk.

And Gibbs was letting her talk, and talk, and slur a little bit, but still talk. He just sat there, being all Gibbs, and stoic-like. (Wait … all stoic and Gibbs-like. There we go.) She felt so bad about the whole damn mess, and then Gibbs just went and agreed with her about it being her fault!

He'd gone crazy! Gibbs didn't say things like that! Gibbs threatened people with baseball bats! She'd seen him do it, too. He was very good at threatening. And now he wasn't going to be threatening people anymore! This wasn't her fault, and she told Gibbs so!

It wasn't until the words crossed Abby's lips that this strange sense of absolution came floating in. She hadn't done anything wrong. Sure, telling Gibbs probably would've been good, but Mikel and his sick obsession really had nothing to do with her. Crazy-pants just needed the opportunity.

Somewhere through the haze of bourbon she realized that she'd totally just been played, but she didn't really mind. With a couple of words Gibbs had steered her out of her dark hole and straight back into happy land. Or, at least, not guilty-trippy land. Eh, maybe bourbon was good.


	4. Afraid of Your Own Health?

4. Are You Afraid of Your Own Health?

7x17 – Double Identity – The one where we find out that Ducky's mom died.

* * *

Ducky hadn't entirely lied to Jethro when he spoke of simply wanting a chance to deal with the grief on his own. Ducky had learned long ago that lying to Jethro only worked when he was in the mood to be lied to. If you wanted to throw off that infamous gut of his, you gave him just enough truth so that, for a while, he would ignore his sure knowledge that you weren't telling him everything.

Ducky could count on one hand the number of times he had been tired and irritable enough to resent his mother for falling in. Ducky knew the irritation would come, it was part of the pattern all caregivers went through. But though he knew it was coming, and that he never really meant his anger, Ducky still felt wretched guilt every time he remembered those moments when all he wanted was his life back.

He regretted those moments more now. Regretted any moment of his life that he'd wasted being bitter. His mother _had_ lived a full life, and so had Ducky. He had done more living than most people would think him capable of, and done it all without getting himself killed. Though several times he had come far too close for his own liking. Which all happened to all be stories he kept from his Mother, for there were certain things no mother needed to know, no matter her mental state.

Ducky was grateful that her mind was finally free of her rebelling body. She'd been far too brilliant a woman to have ever wanted that way of living. Now, he remembered her as two different women, the one from before her illness, the lovely one who sang songs as she made him breakfast, and told him myths as she bounded around the room and put him to bed. It was the only time his mother was ever anything less than ladylike, and he'd loved it.

He believed that Robert Frost put it best when he said, "Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length." Those paramount moments when it was his mother looking back at him were enough to outweigh those moments when he tended to the second woman, the one who didn't remember her son.

The worst had been at the beginning, where she spent a few days calling him Charlie, and thought he worked in the kitchen. She said he was doing such a wonderful job that she would ask her husband to pay him extra this week. Ducky had played along with the delusion until she fell asleep, then took a shower so the sound of the water would drown out his sobs.

Now that he thought about it there had been worse moments in the course of her disease, but that first time she so completely didn't know her child stuck out the most. Somewhere along the way Ducky had learned that taking all of these incidents to heart would do no more than bleed him dry, so he chose to find the humor. It was really rather dark of him, he had to admit, but one could either laugh about being referred to as 'kitchen help' or one could not. So he chose to laugh.

He truly was grateful she was free of it all, and there were only moments where he felt like both a horrible human being and wretched child for that gratitude. But it was there, nonetheless.

He knew he'd be grateful when the disease happened to him. In fact, Ducky was quite _sure_ he'd be nothing but thankful when his memory left him far behind.

He realized this on one particularly morbid night as he thought about who would visit him should Alzheimers take him. Then the painful realization struck that he'd probably outlast most of NCIS. They were truly the only people he'd want to visit him when the time came, but the trouble with having Federal Agents as your only friends was their short shelf-life. Sometimes Ducky was actually quite surprised that Jethro had lived as long as he had.

No, when his time came Ducky would have no one to forget but the nurses at the home, and he didn't think they would mind. As agonizing as it must have been for his mother, there was a part of Ducky that he knew wouldn't mind the descent nearly as much as she had. Some part of him wouldn't be required to remember Kate's autopsy, the sight of young Anthony steadily turning blue, or Jethro strapped to life support. Those memories would be gone, along with all those he, thankfully, hadn't formed yet.

The whole team would fall before Jethro, merely because fate seemed to enjoy, well, as Abby would probably put it, being a bitch.

Timothy would go first, something terribly heroic and unbelievably stupid, because that was the sort of young man Timothy really was. It would be a moment of shining brilliance that the boy deserved, probably taking a bullet to save a small child, a helpless damsel, or maybe Abby.

Next would be Ziva, who death would hunt down in some utterly pointless manner. Simply because she'd been trained as an assassin, and had the indomitable strength of character to remake her life, fate would choose to still her heart by nothing more than a car accident. A pointless death, something Jethro could hate for the sheer futility of it.

Young Anthony would die for Jethro. Fate wouldn't have it any other way. After that, Jethro would never see straight again. Anthony had to live to the end of the story to keep Jethro sober through it all, but with Anthony's demise Jethro would lose his external, and only, source of balance. And there wasn't enough bourbon in the world to see Jethro through all that loss without Anthony to distract him. Some part of Ducky quite expected Jethro to get himself killed in a hair-brained undercover mission, or another manner of suicide without facing the dishonor of actually killing himself. But for all the ways he could end it, Ducky knew the way it would go.

Jethro would build himself a boat.

Not in Baja, because the laughter of Franks' granddaughter would be enough to keep Jethro from the edge. No, he'd vanish to some other place with warm water and easy liquor, and on _that _beach he'd build himself a boat. He'd forget to eat, because every meal would bring a team memory, and no sounds, because every movie carried a Tony quote, and every tune carried an Abby kiss.

Jethro would sand the boat in time to the retreating waves, spending his days with nothing more than a shaping that damn hunk of wood instead of finding something worth fighting for. The locals would nickname him the something sad and quaint, until one day Jethro would finish.

He'd pack a box of bourbon, and set sail. He'd leave everything to Abby, and make sure someone dropped a note to Ducky to tell him he'd left. His body would never be found, which would be Jethro's way of apologizing for leaving them behind.

Though he felt horrifically morbid, Ducky was grateful to look forward to his mother's end. And look forward to it he did. Someday he wouldn't think about things like their autopsies anymore, and frankly, it just might be worth the exchange.


	5. Scared to Lose?

A/N: apologies, this one is really quite short, but I figured after the rather lengthy ones preceding this chpt, it would be good to have something shorter.

* * *

3x12 – Boxed In, scene in question is round about 24 min in the ep – The one where Tony and Ziva get in a shootout and get trapped in a cargo container. Gibbs and McGee go looking for them.

* * *

He couldn't ask the real question. In fact, the thought that Tony and Ziva might be dead hadn't even crossed his mind until the question started spilling out. McGee had just assembled the evidence, started explaining the whole thing to Gibbs, and never once let his imagination run off to darker places.

The field was for evidence, for facts. The bullpen was the place for slipping all those facts together like pieces of a puzzle, then theorizing in the blanks until the picture came together. McGee didn't make factual leaps like Tony, who smashed fragments together to offer up the best plot, or implicitly trust his gut, no matter how far off the beaten path it led him, like Gibbs. For the most part his mind worked like Ziva. Rational, practical, orderly, though McGee still found himself incapable of believing the darkness in people that Ziva thought was a given.

McGee's mind always followed the same structured pattern, even today, when the schools of thought embraced by his teammates were missing. He didn't break form until Gibbs stretched out his arms, checking the trajectory of the bullets, and pointed out that Tony and Ziva were caught in the crossfire of one hell of a gunfight. Maybe it was lacking their minds to balance him out and keep him reigned in on just the facts, but the inventive side of McGee's brain tumbled out.

He could see it, clear as day in front of him. A scene of vivid color and dire peril just begging to be written and taken right to the wretched edge. Tony and Ziva pinned down between two shooters who had faster guns and more ammo. His mind zipped through every variable and all the ways it could have gone wrong for them, trapped out in the open like that. McGee started to panic.

"You don't, you don't think they're…" The question got out to Gibbs before McGee even realized what he was asking. He couldn't quite manage to say the word "dead," because, as Tony put it, Gibbs and Chuck Norris were the only people death feared.

McGee changed the question to an easier way of asking, but still hesitant, because though he felt this was the wrong conversation to be having, it was still the logical outcome for the scenario that had just flown through his mind. "Should we put divers in the water?"

"They're not in the water." Gibbs said it was such perfect clarity. Like he was sure. McGee's logic rebelled for a moment, since it was just as sure that there was no way Gibbs could know that.

"McGee, if they were in the water, they'd be dead. If they were dead, I'd know about it. They're not dead." With that Gibbs just patted him on the shoulder and went back to work. It was far too simple an answer, but it was sure, and McGee wasn't worried anymore. Practicality reared its over-organized head, claiming that Gibbs had no facts to support this assertion, but logic couldn't fight Gibbs' gut.

McGee didn't know when it happened, but when Gibbs said something was so, it was so. Along the way he'd gotten so used to absolute faith in Gibbs' decisions, that everything else, every plot, every sin, every practicality, went out the window.

Gibbs said they were alive, he said he knew, and that was more than McGee needed. Gibbs was never wrong.


	6. Afraid to Choose?

A/N: My apologies for taking quite so long. Studying got the better of me and I hit a gap in the already finished stories before I meant to. Don't worry, I have the next several finished which should get me through enough updates that the next gap won't be a problem. Thanks for you patience, and for reading!

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6x25 – Aliyah – The one where the team goes to Israel about Tony killing Rivkin, and Ziva makes the bad life choice to stay in Israel. Set after Vance tells Gibbs about Ziva's orders to kill Ari to gain Gibbs's trust.

**6. Are you Afraid to Choose?**

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Ziva wanted proof, the _wrong_ kind of proof that Gibbs thought he'd broken her of hunting for a long time ago.

Her bastard of a father taught Ziva that love and trust had to be re-proven every chance you got, or it all went away. If Ziva wasn't fighting for Eli's trust every damn day, then she didn't deserve it. Gibbs had tried to teach her that once you had trust, you had it, and all you had to do was not betray it. Trust wasn't a fight, it was peace.

She had his trust the moment she shot Ari, and Ziva should've known she'd have it until the day she died. He'd come back from Mexico to protect her, what more proof did she need! She'd always trusted Gibbs, and he'd trusted her, that had never been the problem. It took longer than Gibbs liked to get her to understand that when Gibbs trusted Tony with something, that didn't mean Gibbs trusted her less.

McGee didn't worry her, and she couldn't figure out why Gibbs kept Abby around, but Tony was his second, had been for a long time, and Ziva had wanted the trust Gibbs put in him. Eli David had messed her up so bad she thought she had to smack down Tony to life herself up, like Gibbs couldn't trust them both at the same time. Given Ari's betrayal, Gibbs understood why it took time for her to get that Gibbs trusted them all just the same, and wanted them to trust one another.

Ziva was a smart girl with a good heart, and she'd gotten it eventually. But now she was back to wanting proof. It had been a hell of few days for her, so Gibbs could cut her a little slack for reverting back to her old ways, but Tony had given her his word, and to the Ziva Gibbs trained, that would've been enough. Trust went both ways.

But then there was damn Eli, sowing doubt, and making her lose her way.

Ziva wanted proof. She'd been given plenty over the years, but she wanted the sort of proof that Eli would've given her. She tried to make Gibbs choose. It was a blunt way to force him to say he loved her best, that he trusted her more. He loved them both, he'd die for them both, not one over the other, but favortism is what Eli had taught her to demand.

Ziva knew who to trust, and no matter how abandoned she felt by everything else, she _knew_ better. She needed time to get her head on straight, to remember everything the team had done for her, and what they'd do for her. Remember who she could trust.

Or so Gibbs had thought. Right until the moment Vance had told him that all that trust, freely given, had been based on a lie. Didn't change how Gibbs felt about her. Didn't change all the things she'd done to prove that trust over and over, all the loyalty and love she'd shown the team, but it did make him pissed as hell.

Gibbs didn't like doubt. He wanted to trust his people, and trust himself, completely. He still trusted Ziva, always would, but he didn't like being played. That one lie, damn huge though it was, didn't undo anything. Ziva was one of his, and he'd do whatever it took to get her back.

When the time came.

Girl knew where her family was, knew where home was. She just had to remember.


	7. Afraid You'll Win?

5x02 – Family – The one after Tony's undercover op with Jeanne gets outted. Jeanne issued Tony an ultimatum, telling him he had to choose.

**7. Are you Afraid You'll Win?**

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It wasn't that Tony didn't love Jeanne – 'cause he did. It was even the sort of permanent, don't mind waking up to you every morning, everything will work out rom-com style, sort of love. He wasDiNardo when he was with her: smoother edges, no temper, no gypsy wanderlust, and believed in love.

In truth, Tony liked being that guy. He liked not carrying a gun, liked not being an agent, or a murderer, or a druggie. Tony had been some bad men in his time undercover, and done some things that would've disgraced Tony if he'd been himself. But DiNardo, Tony could stay DiNardo with no tugging on his conscience, no nightmares of blood spatter from almost-friends dripping down his neck from a lucky bullet.

This variation on Tony laid down at night next to a woman he loved, and rose in the morning to _teach_ college kids, not find their bodies. Tony could stay this guy.

Just before his first undercover gig, his partner had sat him down and tried to talk him out of it. The partner had been doing undercover work for years, and did his best to get Tony to stay as far away from it as possible. Really, it was advice his partner should've listened to himself, since a blown undercover op is what got him killed (and got Tony to run like hell from the guilt and pain of Peoria).

His partner said that every undercover job – _every job_, no matter how small – changes you. A man discovers things he can do things without batting an eye that he never thought he'd be capable of, and the boundary line between the man you thought you were and the man you've buried inside gets shifted.

He'd been worried about Tony blurring that line between the good and evil in himself. Like Obi-Wan seeing darkness in his padawan that Tony himself didn't glimpse until a few undercover stints later when he was an enforcer. (IA said Tony did exactly what he had to, but Tony knew better). DiNardo wasn't a pull to the dark, he was a clear shot into the light, but the principle was the same. DiNardo exposed some domesticated piece of Tony, the shard that wanted a home and family that Tony thought he'd buried somewhere at the bottom of his father's bottle of scotch.

Tony could run off with Jeanne and spend his life being something other than a Federal Agent. She could pick a hospital anywhere in the states, and he could find work. He had the experience to get hired as a detective anyplace he felt like, and if Jeanne didn't want him carrying a gun, he could teach. Not movies, but criminology. He didn't have the degree for it, but his resume was impressive enough that it wouldn't be a problem. Shepard would give him a glowing recommendation, even if Tony would have to get out before the team had the chance to figure out his plan and fight him.

That sounded nice. Tony could just up and run, grab Jeanne's hand and never look back. He'd spend the rest of his life being DiNardo, and just answering to the name DiNozzo. He'd be happy. It'd be a lie, but he'd still be happy.

It was the good sort of lie. The kind of lie that he'd live so well it'd turn into the truth. He'd stop being a gunhand, stop lying, stop rationing off bits of himself. Just _stop_. Put DiNozzo in a box and be DiNardo. He could do that. Finally make good on his first partner's fear that one of those personalities would take him over.


	8. Scared of Your Own Sin?

A/N: Well, dang. Apparently ask and ye shall receive. It was excellent to check my e-mail and actually find reviews in there! Ya'll are most excellent readers, and thank you for continuing to do so!

3x08 – Under Covers – The one where Tony and Ziva pretend to be married assassins, Jean-Paul and Sophie Renier. (Tony's comment is round about 27:00).

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**8. Are You Scared of Your Own Sin?**

"Just trying to picture you pregnant."

Ziva was cleaning her gun when Tony mentioned it, and at the time she was more focused on not getting killed than paying actual attention to Tony's commentary. She had taken the remark for no more than a typical Tony attempt to irritate her into revealing something personal, which was his preferred method for prying into his teammates' lives.

It took her a several assignments to understand why an Agent so disciplined as Gibbs would keep Tony on his team when the extent of his skills seemed to be making tangential comments and frustrating Gibbs to the point of physical abuse. However, when she was willing to pay attention, she saw a soul at work behind the mask that desperately wanted to be worthy of the affection Gibbs bestowed on him.

Still, she would never have thought about Tony's remark again, had he not nearly offered up his life to buy Ziva the chance to be rescued. He would have died to save her, which was a death she would have regretted. That respect for Tony was not something she had ever expected to feel, and so when the events of the day played through her mind once more, Tony's comment wasn't quickly brushed aside as it usually would have been.

It had been a surprisingly weighty remark from DiNozzo, said with none of his typical joviality. As though he was actually envisioning what she would look like glowing with a child growing inside her.

It was not something Ziva had ever thought about. Somewhere in her childhood someone must have told her that they expected her to be a mother, all little girls were told that. But it had always seemed too vague to Ziva, too distant. Part of the pathway for a woman she didn't know.

It mildly unnerved her that _Tony_ of all people seemed serene in the thought of some day becoming a father. As though it was something he always intended to do and it was just waiting for him down the road. Like he was content with the responsibility of bringing life into this world. Not merely content, but _excited_ by the _thought_ of it.

The man must not be paying attention to the world around him. They spent every day standing on the line between chaos and order, and Tony was still fool enough to be excited to bring a child into that mess.

But … so had Sophie Ranier.

An assassin, who not only knew about the chaos, but had spent her adult life adding to it. Her life, and the life of her child, which Ziva was sure the woman would have died to protect, both snuffed out. Not even by the assassin's blade meant for her, but by a car accident!

Motherhood could not have been something Sophie had seen herself doing. Truly, how could a woman who spent her days ending life at the beck and call of the highest bidder ever really commit to the level of sacrifice needed to carry a life into this world?

But she had.

Sophie had traded her life of adventure and intrigue for the chance to have that life inside her. To watch it grow. To see its smiles, hear its laugh. To teach it to ride a bike. To pray it never felt the need to carry a gun. To wipe its tears when it cried. To send a piece of herself perfectly blended with the man she loved out into the world that she had done so much damage to. She traded herself in for the chance to carry that child, and the whole plan was crushed in one traffic accident.

Killed by chaos not of her own making.

There would have been some justice to it had the assassins gotten to her first. It was a path Sophie had chosen, and her own consequences to deal with, but there was no justice to this. All that hope, all Sophie was willing to give to the spark inside her, and something so stupid as a drunk driver destroyed it all.

She'd given herself over to a prayer that she could be forgiven for what she'd done, move on to a place where a woman like her could have some peace and joy. She'd been a fool to think it could be done. That a person who brought so much death could bring life into this world.

Sophie had been a fool, but at the promise of life, weren't they all?


	9. Scared to Forgive?

A/N: This one is almost wholly dialogue by Ducky, so lets hope for both our sakes that I found a way to unleash my inner elderly Scotsman, and it doesn't feel too off. Have a lovely day!

5x14 – Internal Affairs – The one where they find La Grenouille's body, and Tony gets accused of his murder. Ducky gets photos of the body from his friend who did the autopsy.

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**9. Are You Scared to Forgive?**

"You know my dear Rene, if I was willing to alienate almost the whole of my favorites at NCIS, I could write a rather engaging paper on the Ophelial psychosis of this whole damn mess. I'm sure you'd find it fascinating. You'd probably be less than thrilled about your necessary relation to Polonius, but on the whole I find it a rather apt, if disturbing, parallel.

"And not just the sudden turn to vengeance by your lovely Jeanne. Though, I do have a feeling that you would actually be terribly proud of Jeanne's loyalty to you in your fallen state. However, Rene, I must tell you, your girl has accused a very dear friend of mine of your murder. Given the opportunity, I know you would have liked young Anthony, he's a good lad, quite kind, and loyal to an extent even you would appreciate. Though he does have a moral compass that I believe would be rather unfortunate to your line of work.

"But, I digress. I'm afraid it's our dear Director Shepard who, in this instance, seems to have completely lost her will to her father. Just between you and I, I am concerned that may not be all she loses by the end of this. The Director has put her career and our agency on the line to hunt you, to say nothing of the damage to her rather intense relationship with Jethro."

Ducky paused in his examination of the photo spread of La Grenouille's corpse, realizing for a moment that the Timothy's movements upstairs had stopped. Ducky waited for the boy the resume whatever he was doing for that computer before he continued the one sided conversation. "Sorry for the interruption Rene, but their affection for one another is something neither Jethro nor Jenny would prefer to have discussed with someone who could question them about it later.

"It's not that everyone can't see it, because the whole of NCIS would have to be blind and daft to miss it, which it's not, but Jethro is a rather intimidating man, which is something I assume you gathered from your meeting with him." Ducky chortled for a moment, lost in the thought of what that meeting might've been like under better circumstances. "I can just see it now: you and Jethro staring one another down over scotch while Anthony helplessly tried to joke enough to keep everyone from remembering they had guns, while Jeanne tried to ignore why her future father-in-law and current father seem to loathe one another so much. But truly, the both of you are so terribly fond of your children, I think you might have found a way to not kill one another. And I confess, Rene, not dead is where I'd rather have all of you.

"The way this whole affair has ended is really rather tragic. Normally I wouldn't be quite so concerned because, well, young Anthony has gotten himself accused of murder more than a few times, but I'm worried for your sweet Jeanne. I wouldn't have thought her capable of accusing Tony of such a thing, but then, I suppose I wouldn't have thought the Director capable of murder either.

"Not that I do now, mind you. None of us do. If we did, the interviews we gave to the FBI would've been, well … I suppose for her they would've been exactly the interviews we gave. But my dear fellow, look at the trouble such blind loyalty has caused. I hate to think that Jeanne will find it in herself to follow the same path that the Director has."

Ducky leaned up against the stair railing and stared at the photos laid out before him, wishing once again that this debate about the benefits and drawbacks of unconditional loyalty was one he could have with a living mind rather than a corpse. "I have no doubt the Director did what she felt she needed to do, but I cannot help but wonder if it was worth hurting all these people to fill her need. Tony nearly tied, Jeanne as well, and Jethro is furious with her. Not to mention_ your_ death, my dear fellow.

"I'm sure that for Jeanne you would have retired, Rene. And all those agents who would think me a fool for saying so aren't fathers. The love of a father for his child can rarely be surpassed, and I am certain that you loved Jeanne. You would have given up all your information to NCIS, and, given time – and a generous helping of 'The DiNozzo charm' as Anthony refers to it – Jeanne would have forgiven him for lying. You and Jethro still wouldn't be left alone in a room for the foreseeable future, meaning that since I'm one of the few people living who could stand the both of you, the responsibility of mediation would've fallen to me."

Ducky stopped himself from venturing too far down that road of possibility, the sight of the photos laid out before him was enough to stop Ducky from writing this story anew. "Alas, my dear Rene, keeping you and Jethro from killing one another is a pleasure I shall never have.

"Under normal circumstances I wouldn't for a moment believe the Director capable of killing you, but the love of a child for their parent is almost as extreme as that of their parents for them. The good Director has spent so many years hating you on behalf of her father that I almost believe no amount of pleading would have taken away her rage. As though, by not ending your life, somehow she would fail her father.

"I know Rene, I know. One does what they must for their family. Loyalty demands it of us. But really, Rene, all the heartache, tearing open so many lives, is this the product of the sort of love we should be loyal to?"


	10. Afraid to Live?

4x11 – Driven – The one with the sexual harassment seminar.

**10. Are You Afraid to Live?**

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They were all Bored. Out. Of. Their. Minds. Which considering the creative potential of this bunch when they were in the mood, boring them was really quite impressive.

Really, who taught sexual harassment with a cheesy D government movie all about 'respecting personal space bubbles'? Abby was sure Tony could have given them a long list of movies with much more believable harassment scenes. Tony would probably even be willing to re-enact most of the relevant moments if the class wasn't in the mood for a video. Abby giggled internally at the thought of Tony being the guy to set the bar for what constituted sexual harassment. That would be HR's worst nightmare, and it would be AWESOME!

Abs was _more_ than willing to get distracted from the presentation by thoughts of helping Tony teach the whole room of straight-laced, up-tight agents a thing or two about proper harassment. Not that she thought of Tony that way, 'cause it was Tony. But out of all the men at NCIS, Tony would probably be down with spending a thoroughly enjoyable night harassing her and find some way to get HR to write it off as cardiovascular exercise.

Once again, not that she would ever … exercise, with Tony. It wasn't that Tony wouldn't be fun, but Gibbs would kill him. Like_ literally_, kill him. With his bare hands. Then Abby would have to get rid of all the evidence, because it would totally be her fault that Gibbs went postal on Tony. Then she'd have to get rid of all the bourbon in the DC area so Gibbs would be sober when Abby locked him in a room with a shrink until he got over killing Tony. Of course, then she'd have to find a way to bring Tony back from the dead, 'cause Gibbs would never get over it, which Abs was pretty sure not even she could do. So no, no sexually harassing Tony. At least, no more than usual.

Great, now the deathly dull woman leading the seminar had pulled out slides. Not even good slides! There was no music, no animation, just a traffic sign. Seriously, Abby felt like she was _in_ the clichéd D movie now, only without the added benefit of being harassed by Tony. Traffic lights? Who uses traffic lights as a symbol anymore? They're so overused they no longer trigger memories in the way Uptight Lady wanted, meaning in about five minutes no would be able to remember what 'yellow light' behavior is!

Wait, did the chick in the far too trimmed a suit just complain about hugging as a 'yellow light' offense? Abby's attention was _totally_ back on the presentation. She popped to her feet and asked, "What's wrong with hugging people? I hug people all the time."

Uptight Lady with the slicked back bun pulled out her demeaning schoolteacher voice and scolded, "You may see it as friendly, but your co-workers may find it offensive." She thought Abby was offending her co-workers? Not possible. Ever. Right? But what if she was? What if Abby had hurt someone's feelings? That would be awful!

She had to ask them! "You guys get offended when I hug you?" The whole room shook their heads, denying the claim of Uptight Lady. "Then I'm hugging you all in my mind, right now." She closed her eyes, and reached out for a mental embrace, which Uptight Lady obviously didn't feel. Maybe because Abby didn't hug her. Or maybe Abby did hug her and that's why Uptight Lady was so upset.

She pulled out her scolding voice, talking to Abby like she was a little kid who had just asked if she could kick a puppy. "DOD Policy is very clear about this point, Miss. You must first ask permission before making physical contact with a co-worker." Well, that just sounded stupid.

"Like, every time?"

"Yes." Uptight Lady shut down the discussion Abby was about to launch on studies confirming the benefits of physical reinforcement for good behavior. Uptight moved on to 'red-light behavior' while Abby deflated back to her seat. No hugging? This was awful! She had to ask for permission every time? But, what if Gibbs didn't say yes? 'Cause Abby knew Gibbs totally loved her hugs, he was just too much of a manly man to actually admit that he loved them.

Abby looked up at Uptight Lady and got distracted by her description of 'red-light behavior'. Honestly, the red-light behavior Uptight was describing sounded weaksauce compared to the red-light behavior Abby was used to. Apparently the red light districts where the Uptight grew up were a lot, A LOT, A LOT, milder than where Abby grew up. Uptight must have had a boring childhood. Maybe she didn't get hugs as a kid and that's why she was against them?

Then Ziva made Abby's day. She totally had a _phenomenal_ sense of timing. Tony and Ziva had exchanged sarcastic commentary through the whole presentation, just like the back row hooligans they were, but the second Uptight Lady referred to 'unwanted touching,' Ziva licked Tony's face! It was awesome!

Tony, being Tony, dramatically leapt to his feet like he'd been poisoned or something, hauling all attention away from Uptight and to him. Of course, he refused to tattle on Ziva, and instead took his chance to make a joke out of the whole thing. Tony Gibbs-slapped McGee, who promptly thwacked Tony in the stomach, which Tony hammed up like the pro-distracter and undercover genius he was. "Would that be considered inappropriate behavior?"

"Absolutely! Are you saying this has actually happened?" Uptight looked mortified! Seriously? Someone should explain to Uptight Lady that that was just the Gibbs version of a hug. Only, ya know, more violent. Someone needed to sit the DOJ down with a much better powerpoint and show them that all this touching, especially the kinds they deemed inappropriate, is what keeps people human.

Gibbs-smacking Tony wasn't about abuse, well ok, not always about abuse. It was reminding Tony he had someone to answer to, which was great for keeping Tony from misbehaving, but was _really_ about keeping him from getting killed 'cause he had someone who'd be mad if he died. Standing too close to McGee put physical pressure on him, forcing his to up his game in a way that mental pressure hadn't since McGee was 12. McGee hadn't had to exert himself mentally for years before Gibbs got to him, and standing too close to Tim, towering over him while he typed away at his computer was enough to get Tim to fight for even more brains than he had. Kept him hungry. Standing _way_ too close and in Ziva's blind spot would_ totally_ be classified as sexual harassment by the DOJ, but it was about reminding Ziva that someone was always there. In a good way. Gibbs had her six, even when she couldn't see him, he'd still be there for her.

Tony shot a sideways glance to Gibbs, whose expression didn't change at being implicated in harassment. At All. Even a little bit. But Abby knew Tony could _totally_ feel Gibbs mentally smack on the back of the head and tell him to 'Shut. Up.' Gibbs could do things like that – communicate without actually using his words, or his face. Dark magic. But Gibb's magic apparently didn't extend to the Director, or the rest of the room, all of whom were choking back laughs. Jenny had probably been on the receiving end of some of those smacks when she was Gibbs' partner. Probably was on the receiving end of _more _than that, but it was best to not think about things like that.

That little train of thought led to an intense scrubbing of the projector screen that her imagination played on. Like, way intense scrubbing. With bleach. Actually, her own special blend that did a better job than bleach. And was untraceable. Not that anything in her mind really needed to be untraceable, but still. Better to be prepared.

Then Gibbs got the call and suddenly all the trouble-makers were out the door and on the job. Damn. Boring again.


	11. Afraid to Die?

A/N: Apologies for the delay, and for falling terribly behind on sending out individual thanks to the lovely people who reviewed. Totally doing that this afternoon. And if any of you happen to know a way for me to pass my Property final without actually having to understand property, since that's really my only hope for doing well at this point, I'll be eternally grateful.

7x01 – Truth and Consequences – The one where they rescue Ziva from terrorists in North Africa. Set when McGee and Tony are trapped at Saleem's place.

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**11. Are You Afraid to Die?**

There's a moment in a novel called The Turning Point. It usually comes hand in hand with the climax, but they're actually not the same thing. A climax is the high point of the _action_, but the turning point, that's all about _plot_. Scholars say that from that moment on the plot is set, and there's only one path the story can take.

With his face turned to the filthy concrete beneath him Tim kept his breathing slow, partially to keep up the ruse he was unconscious, and partly because breathing too deep would send him into fits of coughing from the grit he was taking into his lungs. Which left his partner to forcibly spill his guts while still managing to annoy their terrorist captor enough to buy them time for backup. Gun toting backup that would snuff Saleem Olman out of existence for them and take them home.

Tim couldn't help but wonder just exactly when the turning point _was_ that got them here.

Tim kept himself awake for the moment by dividing up the last four months into five acts in his mind, assuming that the turning point would fall near the end of the third act, in true traditional, Shakespearean fashion. Tim chose to ignore Tony's voice in his head, snarking at him, 'Sure McPlaywright, because life is always organized like the classics.' Tim would've quipped something back about how every _good_ story followed the same basic pattern, and this whole mess was definitely a _good _story. Quite possibly a tragedy, but still a great story.

Tim paused for a moment and realized the only reason he wasn't panicking about being tied up five feet away from a homicidal maniac was because the Tony voice in his head was keeping him calm by baiting him. Tim chose not to analyze that too much.

The First Act was Israel. You meet all the important players, and find the problem they'd spend the rest of the story solving: Ziva left them. The Second Act was from when Gibbs and Tony got back home to the moment Tony realized Gibbs thought something was hinky and decided to start hunting. The action lackadaisically started to rise, and then one conversation between the two of them sent the whole thing into overdrive. The Fifth Act was easy to determine, it started the moment Tony volunteered the both of them for a revenge mission.

The tricky part to this exercise was finding the line between the Third Act and the Fourth. That divider would be the Turning Point that Tim was looking for. Under normal circumstances Tim would've placed the Turning Point back at the moment he, Tony, and Abby decided to screw international law and find Ziva themselves.

But these weren't normal circumstances.

Ziva was dead. The rat bastard currently interrogating his partner was the reason for that. Abby would've been proud. She didn't think that gentlemanly Timmy had it in him to hate. Didn't think that growing up in his lovely, happy, home lent itself well to the violence he felt boiling inside himself. Ziva was one of his best friends, and just because he didn't turn into the angel of death like Tony and Gibbs didn't make him any less dangerous.

He would be like the two of them someday. Not _exactly_ like them, but his own variation on the slightly off the edge, terrifying thing they did when someone on the team was threatened. He was getting closer all the time. Hacking into Mossad and a revenge mission to Northern Africa – Tim from four years ago would've had a panic attack at the thought. Gibbs had been the one spiraling out of control for Ari's blood, and now it was Tony. Someday it would be Tim's turn.

And after a moment's pause on that thought, there Tim found the Turning Point. The moment when fate was locked in and all they had to do was keep up, happened the instant Tony turned into Gibbs.

It didn't happen in the bullpen. Tony just manifested his Gibbs-ness the day he finally snapped and told Gibbs that it was time they killed Saleem. But that wasn't when the Turning Point happened.

Tim overheard the observation room tech gossiping about the moment in the break room. She couldn't stop talking about Gibbs's interrogation of the heroine pushing sailor whose case they'd been working on in the background over the summer. Only the tech wasn't talking about the interrogation so much as how Tony and Gibbs mirrored one another in word and deed on opposite sides of the glass.

Later, Tim pulled up the feeds from both rooms and understood why the tech suspected they'd been showing off for the new girl. But they weren't. The imperfection of their timing was too perfect to be staged. They both sounded completely like themselves, put the emphasis in the right places, and dropped words in a way that fit only their individual speech patterns. Both their rants were too unique to be contrived to match the other.

That was the Turning Point. Nether one of them seemed to notice what had just happened, but they didn't need to. Abby said destiny had stepped in to claim Tony and mark him with the same sort of magic that followed Gibbs around. Tim didn't quite understand what happened in that interrogation room, and neither did Gibbs and Tony, but for some reason Gibbs turned the call on this play over to his right hand. Trusting Tony to choose what to do about their fallen teammate. Leaving it all to him in a way Gibbs had never done before.

Once Tony turned into Gibbs they became the playthings of fate.

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It felt like a lifetime later when they were out of that desert and finally all standing in the bullpen again. Everyone was home and safe. The Director started the round of applause that ran through their colleagues, but that wasn't what Tim paid attention to.

Gibbs ignored all the praise and took refuge at his desk. And Tony did the same.

It was Tony's plan, his mission, something he would get sterling commendations for, would go down as legend to every last agency, and forever define his career. But Tony went back to his desk, and didn't want any of it.

The Turning Point is when fate is locked in, and it cannot be undone.


	12. Think it's All a Lie?

4x14 – Blowback - The one where everyone finds out that Jenny has been using Tony on undercover ops to hunt La Grenouille (but not about Jeanne), and she wants to send Ducky undercover as an arms dealer. Set just after one of their many arguments throughout the ep.

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12. Do You Think it's All a Lie?**

It was Rule #1 in the Gibbs playbook: Don't screw over your partner. Today had not been the first time Jenny had phrased it as 'don't _screw_ your partner' just to irritate Jethro. Part of her suspected his distaste for her paraphrase was more to do with his old-fashioned sensibilities than an actual disagreement with the modified rule. She couldn't imagine Gibbs being comfortable with using 'screw' as a description in any context other than carpentry.

Jenny had long known there was a flip side to each of Jethro's rules, some subtext more important to learn than the actual words he spoke. Rule #1 was more than loyalty to your partner, it was actually about knowing who was loyal to you.

Jenny's Rule #1: Your partner is someone who would screw themselves over for you. Gibbs would start yelling and never quite stop if he heard her term it like that. He'd have some argument about how letting your partner screw themselves over for your benefit was the same as screwing them over yourself. Probably even worse because you didn't have the guts to do it yourself.

There were moments Jenny wanted to slap Gibbs, secure that he would never hit a woman back. He got on his high horse, told her all the reasons she wrong for hunting La Grenouille, and the man didn't even see the truth of his own damn rules staring him in the face. His black and white view of the world had screwed over his team countless times, and he was too bent on justice to see it. Just like she was with La Grenouille.

Gibbs had raised the stakes with this team; he'd kept them longer, opened up to them more, saved them from far worse situations than the others. You didn't get too close to a man like Jethro, because once you did, you never really walked away. Jenny should know. Jethro inspired loyalty in people in the first place, and probably couldn't image the damage he could do when he was actually trying to garner support. All his teams trusted him, but this team was closer than the rest, better than the rest, stronger than the rest, and it was all because he'd let them in more.

The other teams would kill for him, but this team, this team would die for him. And so, he screwed them all over the place without even seeing it.

DiNozzo traded the posting of a lifetime to play second fiddle to Gibbs, something none of the former 2ICs would've done. Tony was a driven man, bound and determined to find all that praise and perfection people didn't think he was worthy of. He'd given up half a dozen promotions and transfers over to years to outside agencies, the fast track to fame and honor at NCIS, and Gibbs would never know. Tony would never tell him for fear Jethro would ask what in the hell he was sticking around for. It was habit of Gibbs's to never see the love of the people standing right in front of him.

McGee was a good man, an honest man, an old school gentleman who followed all the rules out of a simple love for the law. Then Jethro came along. Jenny looked it up when she became Director, and under Gibbs's command McGee had committed 17 felonies. Without the protection of SecNav, McGee would go to prison and never again see the light of day. With the things he'd done for Gibbs, McGee was on the Interpol, CIA, and FBI watch lists, and not the friendly kind they made available for general knowledge. The kind that whenever McGee went abroad for the rest of his life, he would be tailed by very twitchy foreign agents. He was a good man, probably the straightest moral compass on the whole of Gibbs's team, and Jethro didn't see the corruption he'd spread by demanding blind devotion.

Jenny couldn't even begin to image the hell it must have been for Ziva for the first few weeks working for Jethro. She had to take orders from the man who killed her agent, and it must have churned her stomach. Ziva had trusted Ari right up until the end, then Jenny gave her over to Jethro, who had not made the transition kind. But Gibbs demanded absolute loyalty, and that's what he got. Sometimes Jenny wondered how Ziva never cracked, never once took a fist, or a baseball bat, and let her pain go right into Gibbs's skull. But he waved his magic wand, and Ziva belonged to Jethro now. All the rage he deserved, and Ziva managed to think he was her path to absolution.

Kate had paid for her loyalty with her life. A bullet to the brain in exchange for Gibbs getting to feel damn superior. Somehow Gibbs found a vast difference between the shots he fired as a sniper for his country and the shots Ari fired for his. Gibbs so desperately needed to be better than those around him that he managed to create an arch-enemy for himself. He should've known it was coming, should've found a way to protect his team from a psychopathic sniper that Gibbs pissed into causing him pain. But no, Gibbs always had to be right, even when it cost his people their lives.

So she was violating Jethro's damn code, huh? And he was mad as all hell about keeping him in the dark and screwing over him, one of his agents, and his ME, but it was far better than what Jethro was doing. At least she knew the damage she caused.


	13. Live When You Think You're Dying

A/N: Once upon a time, I knew how to respond to reviews. Give me a while and I'm sure I'll find the magical button that lets me tell you lovely people how happy I am when you leave me a review, but apparently my brain isn't firing on nearly as many cylinders as it should. So, forgive me. And here, accept my gratitude for reading!

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3x01 – Shalom – The one where Gibbs comes back from Mexico to help Ziva.

**13. To Live When You Think You're Dying**

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Gibbs almost felt young again. It was a sensation he vaguely remembered from back before his mother died, and revived in those precious years with Shannon. Gibbs had spent most of his life with stress and pain bearing squarely down on his shoulders, and that responsibility aged him.

But four months drinking on a beach with an old friend, shifting from one frivolous project to the next – that was enough to bring back some youth. He was still stubborn and driven, but he remembered how to smile. All that youth he'd lost was breathed back into him by those moments where he didn't have to carry around the pressure to _be_ something.

Drinking nothing but cervesas while lounging on a white sand beach, falling asleep to the sound of waves roll in and out, and imagining what it was going to be like when he finally got to take one of his boats out on the water. No corpses, no cell phones, no expectations. For the first time in years, Gibbs had nothing to be, and could put all the guilt and the pain in a little box in the back of his mind and never have it sneak back out. Relaxing didn't do this justice, this was freedom.

Then Ziva called.

Gibbs would admit, he was blunt with her. She made commentary about Mexico, and tapped danced around whatever she'd felt was dire enough to hunt down the 'only for emergencies, I mean it Abby, only if someone has a gun to their head' number he'd left in the lab. Ziva David didn't avoid questions, and if he hadn't just been reveling in the peace of his new life, he would've paid more attention to the red flag that sent up.

Then she let the truth fly, and Gibbs understood why she had taken her time about it. She was hiding from the FBI, NCIS, and Mossad. Had the kid decided that only pissing off _three_ of the deadliest agencies in the world was enough for today? Just wasn't in the mood to get herself hunted by the CIA, or MI-6?

Ziva wouldn't lie to Gibbs, and didn't bother hiding the fear in her voice. She was confused, and lost, and though he tried to ignore his gut, it told him she was fighting with every fiber to not pick up and run. She'd spent too long as an assassin, taught to be rootless, never get attached, but now she was tied to the team.

He tried to silence the damn Special Agent part of his brain that he'd been trying to ignore for months, that was the bit that wanted to look after her. Gibbs had tried to foist the burden of her welfare off on DiNozzo, then Jenny, but both he and Ziva knew official channels couldn't help her now.

He knew what she was really calling him for, but Gibbs couldn't give it to her. Not with a storm blowing in over the ocean and the chance to nothing but listen to rain thrum on his roof. He wanted to do nothing, feel no responsibility, and ignore threads binding Ziva because they were the same ones that tugged on him whenever he didn't find something to distract him.

"Ziva, look! I'm retired! I'm 3000 miles away! What do you think I can do that they can't do?" He wasn't going to get on a plane. He wasn't going to come quietly back to DC just because one of them called. If she wanted the Special Agent back she'd have to give Gibbs a hell of a reason to let him out of the box.

"Honestly, I don't know."

'Sure ya do, Ziv.' He thought. But he wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"I was hoping, maybe … save me?"

And just like that, the weight came smashing back down. She tried to hide the sniffle, keep from him that she was crying, but he knew. No matter how far he ran, no matter how many beers he drank, that thread binding him to DC would never break. He'd spend the rest of his life ignoring it for the sound of the waves, but it would always call to him. Today, he'd listen.

He hung up the phone, and started for the airport.


	14. Laugh When You Feel Like Crying

6x01 – Last Man Standing – The one where Gibbs and Vance try and figure out who the mole is, but they get it wrong. Lee fakes that Langer is the mole and trying to kill her, and she kills him.

**14. To Laugh When You Feel Like Crying**

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If Lee had been McGee and gotten shot at by an agent on her team, DiNozzo would've taken her drinking. There would've been completely unbelievable, but still hilarious, stories, half-baked attempts at finding her someone to take home for the night (even though they both knew she never would, it would still be nice to have the option), and lots, and lots of alcohol. She'd drink until she couldn't remember her own name, let alone the fact that someone she was supposed to trust with her life had turned on her.

Eventually, Tony would say she was too drunk to spend the night alone and put her down in his bed while he took the couch. He'd drag her and her hangover out of bed way too early the next morning to go to his favorite greasy spoon for breakfast, before they both stumbled into work looking and feeling like they'd been hit by a bus. Gibbs wouldn't scold them because drinking is what you do for your baby sister when someone shoots at her. Whenever the nightmare of the shooting came back, it would be drowned out by the feeling of warmth and safety that came from knowing she could sleep in peace because DiNozzo had gone to sleep with his Sig and locked the door with a deadbolt and a barricade, just in case. Lee would feel looked after if she was McGee.

If she was Abby, she would've had a complete and total breakdown. There would be a dramatic panic attack, and refusal to leave the Navy Yard until Gibbs could guarantee she would be absolutely safe. Even then she'd stay in Gibbs's basement for the first night after, camping out with snacks and bourbon underneath the infamous boat. McGee would turn up with a DVD player and a big screen, which all conveniently fit in the space under the boat she would've have to get out. A tv that McGee would have to have Gibbs help him haul into the basement, while he sent McGee death glares all the way.

She'd love it though, if she was Abby, because it meant Timmy just wanted to do his absolute best for her. Gibbs would check on them occasionally, but for the most part it would be just her and McGee, curled up under the boat, watching something from the never-ending list of movies Tony insisted they watch to call themselves cultured. At some point she'd fall asleep on McGee's chest, and would wake up still on him, even though McGee wouldn't look like he got a wink of sleep. She wouldn't realize until she went home that night, but McGee would sneak out the moment she fell asleep and install a brand new security system in her apartment, with all the bells and whistles. She'd ask, but McGee would never admit to doing it, or to who paid for it. All of that subtle fussing would make her know that someone would miss her if she died. She'd feel wanted if she was Abby.

If she was Ziva, then she wouldn't have been scared about getting shot at. Abby would've been scared enough for the both of them, and insisted that she spend the night at Abby's place. Then Abby would make Southern Comfort Chocolate Chip Cookies. (Which would involve exactly the special ingredient you would expect from their name). But then Abby wouldn't have whisky, she'd have beer. And rather than affront her Louisiana roots by using something so Yankee as beer, she'd insist on going to her neighbor's to borrow whisky.

Somehow cookies and a movie would turn into a giant Rock Band competition with a dozen of Abby's friends. They'd be up until four a.m., and though she would lose in the semi-finals, she'd win a special award for her guitar skills. She'd eat more cookies in one sitting than she ever had in her life, and would be more than willing to blame her hangover on the cookies rather than the whisky bottle passed around the room. She wouldn't have been upset about getting shot at in the first place, because that was just a regular day. But it would still be nice to have someone treat you like you still had it in you be upset about it. To know that someone cared, no matter what you'd done. She'd feel human if she was Ziva.

If she was Tony, getting shot at would be something she'd adjusted to by now and she would make a big joke out of it. There would be 'remember that one time...' stories until everyone was satisfied that she wasn't bothered by the latest round of bullets. When she got home, it would be an half an hour to the moment before Ziva arrived, bearing a pizza and cheesy sticks. She would pick out a movie that had nothing to do with crime and everything to do with an orchestra soundtrack, and Ziva would pretend not to notice that the movie was meant to be calming. They would discuss symbolism and cinematography, but tying none of it back to their lives.

Ziva would cut her off after one beer, and make sure to take every bottle with her, even the emergency store of scotch tucked behind the flour. Ziva would break in at lunch in a few days and return all the alcohol to where it belonged, but not until near death got a little further away. If Lee were Tony, Ziva would refuse to let her out of sight for the next few days, coming up with thin rationales for the tail, but neither would really mind. Ziva would think she was something worth fighting for, if she was Tony.

But she wasn't them. She was Lee.

So today she'd shot her partner in cold blood, but everyone thought he'd gone after her. All the betrayal they should think she was going through, and still no one cared.

Tonight she sat alone in her apartment, drinking light beer in moderation, and eating a salad she made for herself. She would clean up her beige apartment afterwards, then scrub her hands until they were red and raw, trying to wash away some of the strain that murder brought. She'd killed before, and she was almost certain she'd kill again before this was over, but for all her scrubbing, she couldn't really seem to care. If no one else did, why should she?

She'd go back in on Monday, back to the Legal department, and walk past the bullpen every day where she would watch the family bond and tease now that they were back together. And she'd pretend she didn't want a place with them. Not to be a legend, but to have someone who gave a damn about what happened to her.


	15. Stand When You Think You're Gonna Fall

A/N: Apologies for the week long delay, but studying had to take precedence. This terrible thing happened when I was writing last week, one of these little shots spun out of control in my mind and went and developed a multi-chapter plot. That went and demanded more attention than finals, so writing had to be cut out entirely in favor of studying. I don't intend for a break to happen again, and thanks for your patience! You're all such lovely people!

4x09 – Twisted Sister –The one where McGee's sister is suspected of murder. Scene in question is round about 20:00.

**15. To Stand When You Think You're Gonna Fall**

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Gibbs didn't think he'd been in Mexico that long. But apparently in the last four months McGee had gone and grown a spine. Gibbs was sure the kid had had one before, buried somewhere deep under the regs, but the kid lacked the confidence to tell the rules to go screw themselves all on his own; he needed backup to do it.

Gibbs had called McGee to the carpet in the elevator, backing him into the far corner and, as always, a little baffled that the taller man could find a way to shrink in on himself when confronted with an angry Gibbs. The kid tried to apologize for breaking the rules, but they both knew Gibbs didn't give a flying rat's ass about protocol, and Gibbs wasn't in the mood to leave McGee dangling and let him dance around the real subject.

"Why didn't you come to me?"

"I was going to. When I saw the body, I knew I had to bring Sarah in …"

"No! – _before_ that." McGee hadn't ever punished him for going to Mexico, and some part of Gibbs had assumed it was because the younger man had up and let the whole thing go with a grace that Gibbs was grateful for. But apparently letting it go didn't mean everything was back to square between them.

"I couldn't take that chance." McGee held onto the pause after he finally let it out. Not regretting his words, not taking them back. Just letting the truth sit there for a moment and soak through Gibbs.

"I don't know what my sister did or didn't do. But I know what it looked like. And we say better ten guilty men go free than one innocent get punished, but I know from experience it doesn't always work out like that. I couldn't take that chance with Sarah. Not with the police. Not with NCIS. Not even with you."

The boy didn't shrink in on himself, didn't hunch his shoulders, like he was a puppy about to get slapped. He stood tall, shoulders square, and looked Gibbs clean in the eye. The first time he'd done that not on fire with a discovery in the middle of a case. "She's my sister." Somewhere in the last four months McGee had stopped trusting him, and stopped agreeing to let himself get stepped on.

For the first time in a long time, Gibbs accepted someone's apology. The boy had grown. And Gibbs hadn't been there to see it. Somewhere along the way McGee had turned into the Agent Gibbs knew was lurking in there, and Gibbs would see to it this new form would trust him. He was a damn fine agent worth having the trust of.


	16. Afraid You'll Be Alone?

A/N: Yes, I know this is outside the lexicon of what I meant to talk about, but this ep worked too well to be ignored. I swear, I've got a spree of chapters coming up that are on the long end of things, hence having a few on the shorter end of the spectrum.

NCIS:LA 1x09: Random on Purpose – The one where Abby goes to LA to help their team hunt down a serial killer called The Phantom.

**17. Are You Afraid You'll Be Alone**

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There was Absolutely. No. Way. this could happen. Like, at all.

Seriously! Abby wondered what were the odds of getting nabbed when she went into the field for the first time in years? Not even IN the field, just a different state!

Well, actually, if she factored in all the potential variables, including those 'unquantifiable' things, like how criminals would avoid her because they're afraid of Gibbs criminals were and the possibility of a freak accidental abduction. Which Gibbs totally wouldn't count as a variable, because the 'accidental abduction' of a federal agent would be way too much of coincidence.

The crazy-pants serial killer decided to resume his pacing around her while he nursed his still bleeding finger, and Abby took a moment to come out of her inner monologue to think that now was not the best time to be calculating the odds of getting snatched by a psycho stalker. That was math for later when she could compare results with McGee and never, _ever_, let Gibbs hear them talking about it. He didn't like that they even thought getting taken away from him was a possibility.

The creepy bastard kept circling around her, vulture style, was totally talking to himself and acting like she was supposed to listen. She wasn't though. She'd watched enough interrogation tape to know that the _really_ psychopathic bad guys just wanted to tell someone about what they'd done, not have listeners make commentary. Thinking in their messed up minds that the listener would appreciate it. Like it was art, or something!

She'd stopped paying attention to the Phantom while he just kept talking and talking, and she concentrated on her finger spelling. Everything in her mind moved like she was sloshing through peanut butter, which was _totally_ not the mental state she needed to be in with this whack job strutting around her like he was something impressive.

G Callen was totally about to bust into this random concrete dungeon and kick some serious ass. Gibbs hadn't been nervous at all when he put her on a plane to LA because Gibbs knew that Callen would look after her. Not that Gibbs would ever actually _say_ that he would be been nervous otherwise, but he totally trusted Callen to be all former padawan learner and throw down to keep her safe. If she hadn't been trapped by the sedative she would've found the energy to almost giggle at the thought of the totally intense and terrifying to everyone else G Callen having to explain to Gibbs how he let her get misplaced.

Misplaced. That's all it was.

She wasn't really abducted, drugged, stuck to a chair, and being way creeped out by a serial killer. Nope. Just temporarily misplaced.

Not lost.

Freaking out at her situation was not a good choice. She just kept signing to the camera, hoping that somehow the team would get the message. They had to. They _would_.

Right?

They didn't get to be the LA major case team if they weren't good. Not as good as Gibbs, 'cause no one was as good as Gibbs, but they still had to be good. And if Gibbs thought they were good they had to be awesome to everyone else. Right? Right.

They'd be able to find her.

She convinced herself for a whole ten seconds before the panic started to settle back in. The Phantom just kept pacing around her and being _way_ too creepy for her to keep the fear bottled up.

Gibbs would come for her. He had to. It's what Gibbs did.

He'd hijack a plane from the FBI and pack the whole team on it to come and get her. Timmy would track the video feed, Ziva would disarm the door, Gibbs would go sniper on the crazy guy's ass, and Tony would pick her up and carry her out of here quoting Pillow Talk about carrying the bride over the threshold.

They'd find her. That's what friends do. They hunt you down all the way across the country and save you from getting chopped by deranged serial killers who think you're their Achilles heel. They were coming for her. Any of them. All of them. They'd save her.


	17. Scared to Pick Up the Phone?

6x20 – Dead Reckoning – The one where the team takes an accountant into protective custody, and the accountant turns out to be an international arms dealer. With significant mention of 1x20 – Missing, the one where Tony gets abducted and trapped in the sewer.

**17. Are You Scared to Pick Up the Phone?**

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Gibbs took a slow draw on his mug of bourbon, taking the moment to come up for air and relief for his back before he leaned back over to continue his attentions to the boat. It had been an agonizingly long few days, as they always turned out to be when he had to deal with the CIA. Sleep was going to be a long time coming tonight, if it came at all.

"We have a situation at the safe house." It had been a simple string of words that could've meant anything with Ziva's measured tone. Only, it was Ziva, and if she felt the need to call at all, it meant that something had gone to hell in a handbasket.

"Well yeah Ziva, what is it?" Maybe their witness had escaped, or Tony had shot him in the foot for being too damn annoying.

"Just a second." His first reaction to Ziva ignoring him was mild irritation. Why go to the trouble of calling him if she didn't actually have anything to say? Gibbs wasn't a chatty man at the best of times, even less so when he was annoyed.

Then the sound of busting doorframe and gunshots echoed from her end of the line.

That should've been the part of today that was keeping him awake tonight. To any normal person, gunfire on their friend's phone would've been enough. But Gibbs wasn't normal. It was those few seconds after the shots were fired tormenting him, that moment where she didn't respond to his shouts.

"Ziva? Ziva!" She didn't answer. Her phone was still on, playing back to him nothing but the rapport of the shots, not the outcome.

Gibbs's stomach dropped as he listened. He was getting too old for this. There were only so many times in his life a man could listen to his family fend off danger while he sat useless on the other end of a phone line. Which was a method that only added insult to injury. Not being there to help them was one thing, but being at the mercy of a phone to know what was going on was worse.

His relationship with the damn telephone had been strained for years, largely due to his forced requirement to carry one for cases but his desire to avoid angry calls from ex-wives. The whole relationship went beyond repair the night Gibbs had to listen as DiNozzo collapsed on concrete and got dragged away into the night.

It took weeks of too many stiff drinks right before bed to drive away dreams where that helpless fear clawed its way out from his subconscious. He would've been able to keep the fear bay, just like every time he ignored what Ducky thought it said about Gibbs's level of attachment that he couldn't sleep well on nights after DiNozzo ignored his own mortality and caught himself staring down the barrel of a gun. He was good at ignoring.

Right until Kate had tried to make him talk about it.

Gibbs was an expert at burying emotions, tucking fear and guilt away under layers of temper and overzealous work ethic. Gibbs didn't answer any of Kate's questions and didn't take the opportunity she presented to rant about the gnawing fear that they all they were going to find was Tony's body, strapped to a sewer pipe. Kate was from the generation that believed in dealing with emotions by talking about them and letting them be 'purged from your system'. Gibbs thought that was a load of crap. His emotions were designed as fuel.

Sure, he'd been scared for Tony, but the fear didn't do anybody any good. He took the fear and used it to hunt down his agent. He found Tony, closed the case, came home, and did what he was doing now. Sanding the boat and nursing a bourbon. Several bourbons. Really, it had been the whole bottle by the time he finally made it to bed after that case.

Today was the same. He'd gotten the job done, and spent the rest of the night stamping down the weakness of the moment after those last words. When that moment of silence hung there today, he jumped for his desk, grabbing his car keys and gun, as though through sheer force of will he'd get there before whatever was about to happen went down on the other end of that phone line.

He shouted to Ziva one last time, but then she spoke. "Under control." That was it. No explanation for the gunfire, or the call. Two words, completely calm and almost cocky in whatever she'd just done with that gun of hers. Despite the sudden shift from terror to relief, Gibbs still couldn't help the grin at her tone.

The call didn't bother him for the rest of the day, until he didn't have the adrenaline of work to distract him. Everything had worked out fine. But it might not have. Gibbs wasn't the sort of man who indulged himself in what might have been, but the slow and steady pull of the sanding block across the wood gave his mind the chance to wander. Usually it wandered to a quiet place, the sound of the block like the unrelenting sound of waves, but tonight it took his mind to all the ways today could've gone wrong.

He kept up the motion on his boat, each stretch across the wood letting a new scenario play out in his head. He let the warped way events could have turned run its course each time, stopping to breath at the end of each mini story and remember that it_ didn't_ happen that way. He knew that eventually the stories would roam too close to impossible, and they'd spiral so far out of control that they wouldn't torment him anymore.

Half drunk and smelling like sawdust, he'd go to sleep. That moment of fear that he'd find Ziva's body full of holes would be tied up in cage with the fear that he'd find an emaciated Tony chained to a pipe, and a hundred other flashes of panic from calls just like that one.

He'd sleep. Until the next call came.


	18. Scared of the Past?

A/N: Because you're good people and because I loaned my laptop to someone, inhibiting my writing, watching, and posting, I give you two chapters. Hope you're all having an excellent summer as well!

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7x04 – Good Cop, Bad Cop – The one where we find out what Ziva did on the Damocles.

**18. Are You Scared of the Past**

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Ducky was well aware that Jethro was drawn to clever people with a heightened sense of loyalty and the pronounced ability to ignore their personal baggage. But, their universal gift for carrying the undeserved weight of the world around on their shoulders was irritating Ducky.

The team loved Ziva, **loved** her. A bundle of emotionally closed off men who were too terrified of loss for truly committed relationships had let her in. Even Timothy was prey to this fatal flaw of isolation. (They'd buried too many friends for Tim to love with the ease he had when he started his time as a field agent). Her men had willingly gotten themselves captured in enemy territory in terrorist controlled North Africa. They had been beaten by said terrorists, which was not something either of her younger fellows had adequate training for. But they had come for her.

No, they didn't come _for_ her, they went to kill a man. A suicide mission for nothing more than the sure knowledge that they'd killed the man they blamed for her death. They didn't even expect to find her body, but they went anyway. Her boys thought they would die in that desert, and didn't mind. And Jethro, he had killed too many men in his days, his time as an angel of death was done, but he took up his rifle again, for her, for all three of them. Even if Jethro had survived the exchange, it was nothing more than a whim and a fancy that his boys would come out of it alive.

They were going to die for vengeance sake. Die because they could not live in a world with the same man who killed her.

Ziva didn't understand it.

Ducky was positive that their will to die for the mere _memory_ of her had thrown Ziva into the tailspin of depression she was currently entrenched in. The dear girl had all but emotionally shut down after her stretch in Somalia. Some piece of her got lost in that desert, and Ducky wasn't entirely sure about which piece. Save for the occasional flash of defiance, or teasing Tony when he stumbled in late, Ducky almost thought she had lost her will to fight.

Now that she was under investigation for the incident on the Damocles, Jethro had turned over Ziva over to Ducky, requesting that Ducky find a way to convince her to open up. Well, as much a request as Jethro ever offered. It was something along the lines of, "Ziva's coming down to the see to bodies, Duck." All conveyed with a clenched jaw and a slight furrow to the brow that carried the actual request to use on Ziva his talent for getting the dead to talk.

It wasn't the agony or the horror of what she'd gone through in Somalia that had torn her up, Ducky had know that long before. The trouble was that Ziva thought she deserved it.

The child couldn't forgive herself for an assortment of things, probably starting with Kate's death, and running through to not trusting Tony, and she simply thought Cryer's death was the capstone. As though that death in particular, and all the trauma leading to it, was her fault. Now that he had a chance to speak to her about it properly, Ducky could see it wasn't simply that Cryer died, or than anyone else did, but she thought her mere presence had caused it. Like she carried death in her wake, and she was terrified of bringing it down upon NCIS.

Ziva was torn between the two views on her. She couldn't reconcile her own belief that she was dangerous, with the proof her team loved her enough for loyalty like they'd shown. To hunt her down a world away in a place no one was ever meant to find, loyalty like that to her she did not understand. She felt it for her boys, but couldn't understand its application to her.

Ziva would have died for Ari, or for Eli, but they both betrayed that trust. They had become madmen, driven by something dark and foul, and she could not follow them there. Their evil had cursed the girl for years, and now she thought that that was her place. To give her trust wholly to men who wouldn't every trust her back. Ducky knew it would take something Herculean to convince her that the men blood had given her weren't worth any part of her personality. That wasn't the sort of trust she was supposed to learn.

Dear Ziva found someone new to trust, and tried to learn love and loyalty again. The proper way. Jethro had put his life in her hands from almost the first instant, something terribly difficult for Jethro on his best of days. McGee and Tony had taken longer to be verbal about their trust, but gotten into fights with some of the on base marines for her honor the moment Jethro announced that Ziva was staying. (They were spats no one was ever supposed to know about, but Abby couldn't keep the heroics, or her disdain for the offending marines, a secret.)

Somewhere the girl must have believed she was capable of the goodness they demanded, or she wouldn't have been trying so hard to stay. No, somewhere she had to know what they saw in her, even though she couldn't remember it after her time being re-screwed up by her father.

Ducky knew what the problem was, he just didn't know how to fix it. His words to Jethro after his conversation with Ziva had been abrupt and more than a trifle heartbroken. The child couldn't see all that she was, all the good she'd done. She was collapsing under the weight of the fragments of the self she wanted and the self was trained to be.

And this was Jethro's to fix. Her trust in him was beyond absolute, and if he told her she was clean of it, clean of whatever stench she thought trailed behind her like Ari and Eli, she'd believe herself clean. Re-born.

Jethro took Ducky's counsel to heart, with no more than a slight nod and a "Thanks, Duck." Like he always did. Ducky had no idea what Jethro planned to say to her, or if he even planned it out. But whatever Jethro finally did say, he did it well. Ducky knew that if questioned, neither Ziva nor Jethro would ever speak of it. But there she was, leaving interrogation with tears in her clear eyes. Wholly remade.


	19. Think You Might Crash?

3x03 – Mind Games – The one where the SecNav forces Gibbs to talk to a serial killer he put in prison 10 years ago, and they figure out he has an accomplice.

**19. Do You Think That You Might Crash**

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**

Ten years since Gibbs had caught the bastard who raped and murdered 22 women. 10 years with the psycho locked safely in a cage while Gibbs probably wasted nights under that boat wishing he'd taken whatever chance he could to put a bullet between Kyle Boone's eyes. Given how well Tony knew Gibbs, he was surprised Gibbs hadn't shot Boone anyway and trusted that whatever the circumstances, IA would call it a righteous kill.

And yes, he _did_ know Gibbs. Tony may not know the why behind nearly anything his Boss did, but he knew the what, and the next move. He was Riker to Gibbs's Picard, which meant he knew the man better than almost anyone alive, words or no words. (Yes, Tony knew about Star Trek: The Next Generation, and **no**, it wasn't something he'd be telling McGee. But seriously, what kid didn't watch Star Trek? Space ships, phasers, and Diana Troi, really tv didn't get better for a teenage boy.)

They were both dealing with pain and guilt of Kate's death, and they dealt by the same method, if not the same way. Tony told Paula the truth about his pattern of dealing: 1) try not to think about it, and when that fails, 2) junk food. Paula didn't need to know that the junk food came with midnight drives up and down the east coast. Tony had a map in the dash of his mustang, marked up with a list of every 24-hour food joint Tony could get to and back to his desk in the course of a night. If he drove like Gibbs and cranked up the stereo, it was enough to drown out the higher brain function that he needed to let the grief be agonizing.

If Tony kept moving, kept up the action, then he could ignore the rest. Guilt lurked in stillness.

Gibbs had the same method, only in reverse. For him stillness was a refuge. The two of them were so opposite that sometimes Tony was surprised neither one of them had shot the other yet. (And by 'neither', Tony totally meant himself. Gibbs wasn't likely to lose control and pull a gun.) Gibbs dealt by ducking into his basement and trying to wear down the guilt by building something. An act of creation to down out all the destruction that followed them around.

Then they'd both stomp around, pretending to be something they weren't really. DiNozzo, a superficial whore, and Gibbs, a cocky bastard. Well, all right. So they _were_ those things, but not quite as wholly one-dimensional as they pretended to be. But they had to pretend, because when you were swimming in guilt, you couldn't leave yourself open to the cheap shots that slam straight to your soul, with no layers to protect from the world. Those layers kept you from shattering when the blows inevitably came.

Tony sat at his desk and ordered his pizza with a large soda, doing his best to clog any emotional sensation with grease. Lots of grease And cheese. He was successfully driving the guilt back into its hidey-hole, but never really the pain. That had turned into a dull throb and constant companion that he didn't think he'd ever really be rid of. He wasn't deluded enough to think that his guilt was deserved, but it still reared its head.

The guilt wasn't deserved so long as Tony ignored the fact that throughout the whole mess, Gibbs was only following orders. That's what marines do. They follow orders and hire reckless ex-cops as their second in command to break the rules for them. That's what Tony was there for, to defy the CIA and kill people like Ari. But he didn't.

The guilt _said_ it wanted to know why he hadn't found a way to kill Ari before it got that far. But _really_, the guilt wanted to know why Ari had killed Kate. The bullet could've ended Tony instead, and then Kate would know how to deal with this. She'd know how to get Gibbs to talk, and to stop hating himself. Kate would work through her own pain, and not waste time feeling guilty about being alive. Then she'd get Gibbs to take the guilt off his shoulders and stop destroying himself over something he couldn't have done anything about.

Kate would know what to do.

Ducky burst into the bullpen while Tony was busy ignoring his emotions, scolding them all for letting Gibbs once again do whatever the hell he wanted. Like they'd actually be able to stop him. Gibbs spared them further scolding by calling them out to the field. Tony geared up, relishing the activity, but still gave Ducky the most comfort he could, trying to keep the one person alive who could still keep Gibbs on the reservation from being pissed with the team for letting Gibbs go to the serial killer alone. "The difference between ten years ago and today, Ducky – we have Gibbs's back."

"There's another difference, Tony. Ten years ago Gibbs was a very different man." McGee and Cassidy flowed past Ducky and to the elevator, ignoring what they assumed was another story, somehow tangentially connecting to how Gibbs had always been a badass. Tony did the same, gearing up as he went to step out on Ducky mid-conversation. "You mean he was actually meaner?"

"Quite the opposite." Ducky followed Tony across the bullpen and grabbed his arm mid stride, twisting Tony around to face him and focus his attention. "He was … he was a lot like you."

There was caution in Ducky's voice, but Tony couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Ducky said stuff like that sometimes, telling Tony how similar he and Gibbs were, but Tony knew it was crap. Ducky tried to humanize Gibbs to Tony when the former went off on his vengeful god rampages, thinking that maybe Tony would step in the middle before Gibbs got himself killed.

That was the only reason, because Tony _knew_, he and Gibbs were nothing alike.


	20. Think You're In Too Deep?

A/N: Can I tell you how _phenomenal_ it is to get a notice that your story is getting followed by an author you read and you think is brilliant? It's a crazy good feeling, and total motivation to keep writing. You're all beautiful people, and thanks for reading! (And a shout out to _Studio 60_ for a line I borrowed from them. I was watching eps on Hulu, and when the line came up, this whole chapter materialized.)

7x01 – Truth and Consequences – Really, this happens in the blank four months before the ep, but since those are all included in Tony's flashback, I figured I'd include it with this episode.

**20. Do You Think You're In Too Deep?**

* * *

"I'm not telling him Abby!"

"But Tim, you have to tell him! It's Tony!"

"That's my point, Abs! Tony would mock me for this for the next six months! I'm not telling him!" Abby had tailed McGee around the desks in her lab, spouting off reasons to convince him to just tell Tony that the sprain to his wrist was hurting him too much to properly handle his gun. McGee wanted to keep his injury quiet, partly because the likelihood of getting into a gunfight on this case was miniscule, but mainly because his team didn't need to be another man down while he sat at a desk.

Abby understood that questioning witnesses on a UA marine case meant he probably wouldn't need his gun, but that didn't stop Abby from trying to mother McGee into submission about telling Tony about the persisting injury. "He'll look out for you, Timmy, but he can't do it properly unless you tell him!"

"Tell me what, Probie?" Tony had snuck up on them in ultimate Gibbs fashion while they were distracted by the arguing.

"Nothing!" McGee shouted, looking for all the world like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Tony looked over to Abby with a raised eyebrow, expecting her to spill her guts the moment he asked, but McGee stepped into Tony's sightline. "Abby's got nothing to tell you, because there's nothing to tell."

Tony stepped forward, way too far into McGee's personal space, and did his best Gibbs interpretation. McGee held his ground and stuck out his chin, trying to ignore the part of his brain that still got twitchy at moments when Tony was too good at turning into Gibbs and staring into his soul while he pulled out his 'command voice'. "Tell. Me. What. Probie?"

McGee tried to step around Tony and make for the elevator before either Tony wormed the truth out of Abby or Gibbs killed them both for taking too long to check test results. Tony did a shuffle step that kept McGee trapped between Abby's two tables while he kept pestering Tim. Tony had always been faster, which just enhanced his already perfect ability to annoy McGee in this situation. "Come on, Probie, tell me what's bugging you!"

They continued their dance around the tables with Tony always getting around to block the door before McGee could get there, adding in a few feints and some head slaps, just to make the whole thing all the more reminiscent of getting bullied on the playground. Abby watched the fight propped up on next to her computer, swinging her platform shoes back and forth and sipping on a Caff-Pow while she giggled.

"Stop it Tony!"

"Stop what, Probie?"

"_Tony_!" McGee didn't mean for the whine to come out quite as pathetically as it did, but there was no way Tim knew there was no way he was getting out of this lab unless Tony let him, and that would only happen when Gibbs walked in.

"I'll stop as soon as you tell me what's bugging you."

"Tony, you can't make me tell you! I'm not your baby brother!"

"Yeah you are Timmy, so tell me anyway." McGee slammed to a stop mid-dodge, shocked by the sudden use of his name, and the blunt declaration by Tony.

"Well?" Tony just cocked an eyebrow at McGee's surprise, giving him a moment to process and realize that was the strongest verbal assertion of how Tony felt that he was ever going to get, so he should take it for what it was worth, and move on.

"I can't … I can't grip my gun." Tony waited for more of an explanation than that. After all these years with Gibbs, never let it be said that Tony didn't understand the power of the pregnant pause.

"My tendons are still sore from the accident, it's not a big deal, and Ducky says it'll be fine in a few days, but right now …"

"You'd be useless in a firefight." McGee said a silent prayer of thanks that Tony chose this moment to be professional rather than take the cheap innuendo he had open.

"Not useless! Just, not … useful, with a gun."

They heard the elevator ding before Tony could reply, and they all scrambled to Abby's computer, pretending like she had something terribly important to show them. Gibbs just rolled his eyes at the music video she had pulled up, knowing from their awkward and fidgety rambling about film style that they were lying through their teeth about their conversation, but he was far too irritated at running late to care.

Tony and McGee bolted out of the room behind an irate Gibbs, and Tony kept his mouth shut about the injury. Tony didn't call him McCripple, or make half a dozen Captain Hook references. Oh sure, he mocked him for other things, because a non-teasing Tony was a red flag in the Gibbs playbook, but it was just enough to keep up the norm and hopefully keep Gibbs from commenting that Tony took all the pictures, and tagged all the things McGee bagged, and took notes of the statements while McGee was the one who talked to the witnesses. McGee tried not to be irritated at the babying, because he could've at least written things down, but Tony kept him from doing anything that involved his gun hand.

Gibbs wouldn't have asked them about the funny dance they were doing, McGee would've healed, and no one would've known someone on Major Case wasn't technically fit for duty. But, of course, that AU marine had to turn up at their afternoon interview with his girlfriend, hopped up on cocaine and trying to shatter Tony's skull with a brick.

Which is why they were both sitting outside the Director's office, listening to vague strains of yelling while Gibbs briefed the Director about why in the hell his senior field agent was nursing a bloody nose while the junior agent had a rapidly swelling black eye and all because neither one had seen fit to draw their guns. Gibbs was in the office trying to draw fire, and they both knew it. Not because they didn't deserve to get punished for the breach of protocol, but because whatever the Director did to them, nothing could be worse than what Gibbs could do, and Gibbs wanted to be the one doing the damage.

The door banged open and Gibbs fixed his death glare on the both of them, which was all the summons they needed. Tony flicked his bloodied Kleenex into the trash can as they filed in, and Tim saw as he shifted his shoulders from the 'tense but not worried' position he'd been in with McGee while they waited, to the 'hell yeah I did what I did, and I'd do it again' position as they stood before the Director's desk. The shift meant Tony was gearing up for a fight, which sunk Tim's stomach and distracted him so much that he forgot to leave his pathetically wilted ice pack outside the office.

They stood waiting for a moment while Vance took in the sight of them, letting his eyes (and the chewing of the ever present toothpick) pause at the thin trail of blood still leaking from Tony's nose and the ice pack dangling from Tim's uncomfortably terrified fingers. As Vance appraised, Gibbs stoically lurked somewhere in the blind spot behind them. As if McGee's blood pressure wasn't high enough after today, an angry, invisible Gibbs was exactly what he needed.

Vance sat, letting the pressure of this potentially fatal screw up soak in before turning to words. "Which one of you wants to explain to me why you thought it would be a good idea to pick a fist fight with a strung out, special ops, marine?"

McGee fidgeted with the guilt, but before he could find the right words, Tony squared his shoulders all the more and stuck his chin out. Tim lost whatever explanation he could find in the face of the sheer terror that Tony was about to do something reckless.

"The carpet." McGee closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Yup, definitely reckless. And stupid. Very, very stupid.

"Excuse me, Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"The girlfriend had nice carpet in her apartment. Didn't want her to have to hire cleaners, I mean, as we learned from _Seinfeld_, carpet cleaners have a terrible habit of actually belonging to cults, and I figured the poor girl had enough going on in her life, she didn't need to deal with a cult too." Tony pulled out the voice he used when getting interrogated and wanted to piss off the person questioning him.

The Director just stared at Tony with eyes that got narrower with every word, but Tim was more concerned about the fact he could actually hear Gibbs shifting behind them. Whatever Gibbs had been doing before was silent, but hearing Gibbs meant Gibbs was _mad_. Mad to the point of not bothering to conceal his movements because he didn't need the element of surprise to kill Tony for being flippant in this situation.

Vance clenched his jaw for a moment, taking a mental step back to appreciate that Tony was baiting him. "Agent McGee, would you care to elaborate for Agent DiNozzo?"

"No, he wouldn't."

"Tony!" McGee was in full panic mode. Vance didn't like having his authority threatened, and if Tony didn't keep his mouth shut he'd find himself back on a ship, somewhere far away from DC, and probably far away from anyplace warm.

"Don't think I asked you, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony sighed, and let his shoulders sink a little, as though he was giving up. Tim's heart clenched for a breath at how much trouble he'd get in when Tony told them what really happened. "McGee was just following orders, Director. The marine was just a dumb kid, and I thought we could fix this thing without pulling guns on him. It always looks better for the suspect when we can say we didn't have to threaten with deadly force, and I wanted to give this kid that chance. Apparently I was wrong. I told McGee not to pull his gun. He was just following my orders. The mistake was mine. Not his."

For the second time in as many minutes, Tim stopped breathing. That wasn't what happened! Not even remotely! Tony had been ambushed by the guy, and Tim couldn't draw his weapon to protect his partner! None of it was Tony's fault! Tony lied through his teeth, but Vance missed it.

Vance put Tony on desk duty for a week, more for being a stubborn ass during the interview then doing anything wrong. But it was better than the alternative. f they'd caught McGee going into the field when he knew he couldn't shoot a gun, Vance would've shoved him back down to Cybercrimes for almost getting his partner killed, and he would've been justified.

Though the office gossiped about what happened, Tim and Tony never mentioned it. Even when questioned. And holy Hannah, they were questioned. That wasn't the sort of mistake an ex-cop trained by Gibbs was likely to make, and everyone wanted to know why. But neither of the men was talking. If Abby happened to spontaneously turn up in the bullpen and hug Tony for the week after she heard the general population's take on the story, no one thought it was really that strange. It was Abby after all. Hugging is what she did.

As for Gibbs headslapping them both before buying them pizza the next day, that had nothing to do with the conversation he had with Ducky in the isolated morgue, despite the lack of bodies, or a chat with Abs that took several Caff-Pows and an iTunes gift card to get her to have.

But the boys ignored it all. No matter what reasons the gossip came up with, no one could doubt that Major Case had gotten even better. Which was actually a terrifying thought to everyone else in the department.

Really, the only tangible proof that something had happened was the nickname change. And it took weeks before anyone noticed that Tony had stopped calling Tim, Probie. By that point no one could really trace the change back to a specific case.


	21. Afraid to Sleep?

5x07 – Requiem – The one where Gibbs protects Kelly's childhood friend and doesn't tell his team the lengths he's going to to do it. Better know as: the one where Tony jumps into the harbor to pull Gibbs and the girl from a sunken car.

**21. Are You Afraid to Sleep?**

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**

Gibbs felt guilty about not feeling guilty for the thing he should actually feel guilty about. Which was a hell of a convoluted emotional structure for him.

Gibbs had guilt for leaving his team out of his plan. Felt bad that because he'd been closed off, yet again, Tony had to pull him out of a sunken car, Ziva's trust issues were back out in full force, and Tim looked too terrified to talk to him. Gibbs had hurt them all so he could keep them out of his past, and that's the guilt that kept him up this night.

But that wasn't supposed to be the guilt he felt. He'd felt Shannon and Kelly with him when he was drowning. Felt them telling him it wasn't time yet, he wasn't supposed to die like this. He should've been feeling the guilt for not slipping into the dark to be with them again. Or at least a resurgence of pain at letting them be murdered. But he didn't.

The guilt was for hurting his team. Tony would be sucking wind for days while his lungs threw a tantrum, Ziva wouldn't let him out of the office alone until she was sure rogue operations had been burnt out of his system (meaning she would be staking out his house too), and Tim would be extra jumpy every time he raised his voice and wouldn't express an opinion for the next month.

His team was where his concern was now. Dreams of Shannon and Kelly didn't torment him at night, they brought peace. Torment came in the thought that Tony might have swallowed some of that water, putting him back in the hospital. Or that one of these times he'd push Ziva's trust to a place where he'd never get it back. Or that after all those years of making a man out of McGee he'd lost his temper and just snapped the boy in two.

It was all the wrong guilt. Pain over what he'd done to the new family instead of the old.

Gibbs though about for a moment, realized that Shannon would've kicked his ass for thinking that way. He was sure that wherever his girls were, they didn't see a disconnect between the two phases of Gibbs's life. Shannon would be just as mad at Jethro for leaving the team out of his plans as he was at himself.

Shannon would've had this whole mess fixed in three hours. She would've insisted that Tony sleep in their guest room so she could fret over his breathing from close range. Tony would've refused the help from Gibbs, but after all the years Tony would've spent with Gibbs's family if Shannon was still around, Tony wouldn't have been able to tell Shannon no when she asked. Tony wouldn't feel betrayed because Shannon would be a reminder that Gibbs trusted him completely. He had to, or Tony wouldn't be sleeping in his house, teasing his wife, and corrupting his daughter.

But to have Tony in the spare room meant Gibbs would need to track down a tv to keep Tony entertained. Jethro would still have the broken down tv in his basement, but his girls never were much for movies or tv. Shannon would have to call up Tim to bring over Tony's tv and hook it up, which would give her the chance to build Tim up and show him just how_ not_ scary Jethro really was. Tim would be invited to stay for dinner, which would be horrifically uncomfortable for the first few minutes, then Kelly would talk to her daddy about her day. One open laugh at Kelly's stories, and Tim would see the father Gibbs really was, and wouldn't be afraid of him anymore.

Ziva would come for the dinner too, because leaving out one team member was something Shannon would never do. She would chat with Ziva about all those simple things that made up life outside the office, and Ziva would feel like she was nothing but normal. Not a Mossad assassin who Shannon was supposed to be nervous around. She would talk to Ziva just like she did with Kelly, and Ziva would walk away that night feeling like she had a mother again. Ziva would know she had Gibbs's trust because his wife loved her like a daughter. Gibbs wouldn't let Ziva anywhere near those women if he didn't trust her. He'd made a mistake on the job, but he still trusted her with the most important things.

Shannon would make all of it better, and Gibbs would let her. The thought of Shannon treating his team like her children, or of Kelly going with Ziva apartment hunting, or running away to Tony's apartment when she got mad, or turning up in line at Tim's book signings, all sounded perfect. Like the two halves of his life would fit together with barely a wrinkle between them.

His girls were safe somewhere, and waiting for him, but they wouldn't let Jethro destroy the rest of their family to get there with him. His girls loved the team. Jethro didn't know how he knew it, but he did. Sure as he knew anything.

And the dream of them as one big, happy family didn't cause him nearly as much guilt as it should have.


	22. Scared There's No Stability?

A/N: I totally meant to get this chapter up before I went on vacation, but as I went through my final edit, I realized this chapter sucked. It was for the ep _Bounce_, and though it had some funny bits, an Abby perspective and a slashy bend, it was still _awful_. I spent most of my drive to a vacation place without internet trying to re-write this chapter into something better, which didn't go well, so I started all over. In my thanks for your patience, I give you two chapters and my undying love. Thanks for reading!

Also, this got a little ... experimental. There are three sections to this, each one with a view from Ziva in regular and a view from McGee in italics. The first set before the case in _Frame Up_, the second during, and the third after. Here's hoping it doesn't suck as well. And if it does, my apologies, just move on to the next one.

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3x09 – Frame Up – The one where Chip sets Tony up for murder.

**22. Are You Scared There's No Stability**

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**Before the Case**

She was supposed to get Gibbs to trust her. Trust her so completely that he wouldn't object to her presence any time Mossad sent her to America to do what should have been Ari's work. She'd done her task well, but inadvertently.

She killed Ari because he was a terrorist, and the brother she loved was dead. Her actions weren't for Eli David, they were for country. That was what it all _had_ to be for her, for love of country. She had to stop doing things to satisfy the corrupt men pulling her strings. It was too easy a trap to fall into.

And yet, she found herself in the same confusing place again, giving over everything so her boss had what he needed. And it hurt.

_He liked that Gibbs trusted him. Trusted him so completely that he would rely on McGee's skills any time NCIS sent them to the field to do an agent's work. He'd done his tasks well, and impressively. _

_He hacked systems because Gibbs was honorable, and the Boss McGee trusted was true. It was for Jethro Gibbs, and it was for country. That was just _part _of what he got to work for, love of country. He couldn't stop doing things to help the good man guiding him on. It was too peaceful a place to jump into._

_And he found himself in the sure place of duty, giving over everything so his Boss had what it needed. And it was a joy._

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**During the Case**

Gibbs wanted his second in command. Gibbs never actually _wanted_ anyone, but Gibbs wanted the rest of the building to have one. A filter for agents to divide them into non-aggravating chunks and protect Gibbs from their stupidity. But Gibbs didn't have his second. While he was trying to save his second. (It would be an interesting observation for future reference to know how Jethro Gibbs, ex-sniper with a famed temper dealt on his own). But Gibbs still wanted his second, despite the impossibility, so Ziva turned into Tony.

It should be too difficult to fill that talkative place Gibbs had at his side. She made tangentially connected cultural references, got overly emotive at suspects, and occasionally got Gibbs to smirk. He had told her to help, and this was obviously the help he actually wanted. No distractions. No irritations. Ziva was convinced Gibbs would be thrilled with her approach to things. Well, if Gibbs could ever be considered thrilled.

_Gibbs needed his second in command. Not that Gibbs really ever _needed_ anyone, but the rest of the building needed Gibbs to have one._ _A filter for Gibbs to break him into non-scary chunks and protect everyone else from his wrath. But Gibbs didn't have his second. While he was trying to _save_ his second. (It would be an interesting characters study for one of those short stories he wrote.) But Gibbs still wanted his second, despite the problem with that, so McGee tried to free Tony._

_It would be impossible to fill that lively void Gibbs wanted by his side. There were no mood distracting movie quotes, nuanced interrogations of suspects, or accidental Gibbs grins. Gibbs needed help, and that was obviously the help he actually needed. No distractions. No irritations. Time was convinced Gibbs would be dangerous without his balance. Well, if Gibbs could ever be considered not dangerous. _

_

* * *

_**After the Case**_  
_

Tony followed Gibbs out of the bullpen at his mad run down the stairs and to Abby's lab. By the time the rest of the bullpen arrived, guns would've been useless, even if Abby hadn't ensnared Chip with duct tape.

Gibbs made _justice_ (of all things) personal. McGee found the intel on the original case, Gibbs and Tony burst into the office, and the team was protected. A wretchedly wasted day at the office for Ziva. She'd been part of that, seen how the team felt when _one of their own_ could be saved.

She wanted Gibbs to _want_ to trust her, because heaven help her, she wanted to know they'd fight for her like they did for Tony. For _her_, not who she tried to be to aide Gibbs. She prayed one day they would.

_Tony followed Gibbs out of the bullpen at this blitz and down the stairs to Abby's lab. By the time the rest of the team appeared, guns would've been useless, even if Abby hadn't trussed up Chip with duct tape. _

_Gibbs made justice _personal_. McGee found the intel, Gibbs and Tony busted down a door, and the innocent were saved. A practically perfect day at the office for Tim. And Ziva had been a aprt of that. She'd seen how the team felt when one of their own could be _saved.

_He wanted Ziva to want to trust them, because against the odds, the wanted to fight for her just like they did for Tony. _For _her, now against the girl they thought was helping Ari. He thought one day she would. _


	23. Afraid of Your Own Fragility?

5x01 – Bury Your Dead – The one where Tony's cover gets blown with the Frog and they think he blew up in his Mustang.

**23. Are You Afraid of Your Own Fragility?**

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**

He was about to kill Jenny.

If Tony had actually stayed dead from Jen's hunt for the damn Frog, Gibbs didn't think even _Ducky_ would've been able to talk him down. Though if Ducky knew the whole story, he probably wouldn't have been peddling forgiveness like he was.

Gibbs talked a good game, but he knew the whole damn mess was his fault. His gut had started up months ago at the moment Tony called her Jenny. The kid got jumpy when Gibbs questioned him about it, which Gibbs had expected, but he was _too_ jumpy. Making Tony nervous when he hadn't done anything wrong was always enjoyable, but this wasn't Tony flinching because he didn't know where he'd messed up, but instead, flinching because he _did _know. Gibbs had debated for half a second about whether Tony and Jenny might have been just mad enough at him for leaving that they would sleep with one another. It was only half a second, because Tony wouldn't have been able to meet Gibbs' eye if he had. In fact, Tony probably would've turned up on Gibbs's stoop that first night home with his letter of resignation so Gibbs wouldn't have to deal with someone who went behind his back like that.

He ignored the sensation in his gut that he was missing something huge between the two of them, and he was ignoring his gut regarding Tony's actions so much that he didn't notice Tony spending more time at the hospital. Ziva was the one who pointed out the hospital bracelet and Tony's tests. Ziva had noticed, and he hadn't.

Gibbs convinced himself all the concern had been just a product of chasing the Frog, and whatever ops she'd sent Tony on and had him lie about. The fact that Gibbs had taught Jenny her strict approach to secrets was something Gibbs preferred to bottle up with his gut telling him this wasn't the end of the problem. He'd let his team make Jenny's life a living hell as they dealt with ARES to punish her for lying to him, but Gibbs didn't make Tony pay. There would have been something mildly demeaning for it under normal circumstances, but if anyone asked, Gibbs said Tony was just following _Gibbs's_ orders. It was a complete lie, but the truth wasn't something Gibbs was entirely comfortable revealing.

Usually, when Tony apologized he was sorry about irritating Gibbs, not sorry that he'd done wrong. This time, he was actually sorry for lying to Gibbs, sorry he'd let his boss down and not lived up to his rather high (though justified) expectations. Sometimes the best way of getting a lesson to stick was making it different than all the rest. Rather than smack the kid upside the head, Gibbs let it go. He wouldn't bring it up if Tony didn't, and let the boy bask in a rare display of mercy, letting that feeling of relief and forgiveness remind him the next time he thought lying to Gibbs would be a good life choice.

That was his plan. A scenario he'd used before, and had actually saved for a lesson he wanted DiNozzo to remember in particular. Trust didn't come easy to Tony, and Gibbs knew he'd lost a healthy portion of that trust when he retired from NCIS. Gibbs knew that in Tony's mind Gibbs's forgiveness would make for an even trade for Tony's forgiveness for leaving.

Or so Gibbs had thought.

Gibbs had recently been a level of wrong about his former partner and his Senior Field Agent on a level he didn't think he'd ever been before. Really, and he would never admit this, when Jenny told them Tony had spent the last few months deep undercover, without the backup of his team, it was Abby's voice that popped into his head, calling Gibbs an idiot for not seeing this. (Only, Abby would've been yelling at him in ASL so she could claim later on that the cursing was a mistranslation on his part.)

It wasn't until after the explosion and they were at the table in Jenny's office, with DiNozzo about to crawl out of his own skin that Gibbs believed Abby's words. In the course of today Tony had been held at gunpoint by drug mules, abducted by an arms dealer, had his car blown up, been threatened by the CIA, and lost the woman he loved.

Gibbs could feel the tension coming off Tony the moment the elevator doors opened. He was in full acting mode, doing his best to pretend that he wasn't an inch away from bursting at the seams to do anything to vent off some of the energy pulsing through him. Gibbs took just a moment to be grateful that Tony was standing there alive, in pieces, but alive. Tony was in full scale acting mode, doing his best to pretend that a strong wind _wouldn't_ have ripped him wide open.

Jenny had Tony up to her office for the mission debrief before the rest of the team had a chance to properly look him over, and Gibbs was grateful for it. With the state he was in, a solid nudge in any direction and would've sent Tony drinking or fighting, which was a state of fragility Tony would never have wanted the team to see them in.

Tony was still fidgeting at Jenny's table, but being inside NCIS, surrounded by his team with all his secrets out, and across from Gibbs's familiarity, made him look like he wasn't about to take a flying leap off the edge of a building.

Gibbs knew Tony was on his way out of the dark when he slipped a movie reference in to the story, but he was still in it deep. Gibbs poured him a glass of water, not because Tony needed it, but because he needed to feel Gibbs's steadying presence moving around him, keeping the chaos at bay.

All the emotions tumbling around inside him, and rage was the one Tony went with. The boy was irate at Jenny, not only for screwing him over and putting him on the chopping block for the CIA, but also because he had loved Jeanne.

Gibbs had known Tony was fond of this girl. The relationship had gone on longer than any Gibbs had seen Tony in, but the clues were smaller than that. Tony took her calls in the middle of a case, and smiled at memories of the night before when he thought no one was looking. Gibbs knew Tony was fond of her, but he didn't know it was love.

It was insane of him, but Gibbs knew that somehow Tony had thought this affair could end happily. That some part of her would love Tony for who he really was, forgive him, and let the whole thing go. He was a smart boy, he knew it was impossible, but since it was Tony, the impossible became a hell of a lot more probable.

The kid didn't deserve this. He'd had the shit beaten out of his soul by Jenny, ignored to the point of isolation by Gibbs, and he was at his limit. Gibbs had known Tony inside and out, but he wasn't sure if Tony was the same man, or if something had been broken beyond repair by their abuse.

At least, until Tony wouldn't answer Jenny's questions.

He drew the line for her, refusing to talk about things that weren't directly tied to The Frog. Jen had done damage, but Tony was still Tony, and Gibbs couldn't help but smile at that. They'd see him through.


	24. Live Like You Think You're Dying

A/N: So, I listened to the song again several times, and apparently I misheard the lyrics. My previous chapter involving this went with 'live when you think you're dying'. Yeah, not so much. Here are my apologies for the previous misinterpretation, but I'm not re-writing anything. So, here's the chapter matching the right lyrics.

6x20 – Dead Reckoning – The one where Kort gets Gibbs to help him track down an arms dealer so he can get back in the game.

**24: Live Like You Think You're Dying**

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Gibbs should've understood. Either you're in, or you're out. You had the job, or you didn't. Heaven or hell.

You may get out the game, but it never gets out of you. Infects you. Like the plague. Or a woman. You spend the rest of your life checking the exits, never putting your back to an unsecured door, reaching for a gun that isn't there when you get surprised. Not matter how far away you run, you never get away from the job.

David would always draw her gun like Mossad. Not just in style, but sooner than she needed to. Gibbs would like her to react with something other than the desire to kill and maim, but she never would. It as something he'd never be able to train out of her, no matter how many rules he made. The job would take her over. A cluster of three to the chest, perfectly placed. Girl was made for killing, and for some reason Gibbs thought he could train it out of her.

McGee had been a nice boy, a gentle man. He was still good, practically had wings he was so innocent. But the job got to him just the same. Kort saw the look in McGee's eyes when Kort had DiNozzo slammed against the elevator wall. McGee would've killed him. Dropped him where he stood, no second thought. Timothy McGee, beloved eldest son, loving big brother, purity personified, would've gunned him down in cold blood for _allegedly_ attempted to kill DiNozzo. Mama McGee didn't raise her son to shoot people, but the job took precedent to her teachings. The tie to the man who watched his six meant more to him, the job outweighed his life before.

DiNozzo, ah DiNozzo. Kort's favorite white hat. He could barely imagine what the CIA would've made of that boy if they'd gotten to him before Gibbs did. He was spiraling out of control in Baltimore, too many crooked partners, too much neglect, too comfortable pretending to be somebody else. The job was eating him whole. For some reason Gibbs thought that changing venues would save DiNozzo from the job. It didn't. Just slowed the damn thing down.

Eventually the job got them all. They became it, defined by it. They'd kill for it, bleed for it, breath for it, and someday it would walk away and leave them with nothing. Or it would kill them, just because for it they would lay down their lives.

And they'd love it anyway.


	25. Laugh When You Feel Like Crying 2

A/N: My apologies, this one got away from me and developed a plot. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the reviews. Work has been swallowing me whole, and the traffic tag says no one (literally, _no one_) has read the story over the last few days. So getting reviews to indicated the contrary makes my day. Thank you!

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1x01 – Yankee White – The one where Tony crashes on the floor of Abby's lab

**25. Laugh When You Feel Like Crying**

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There were some moments when Tony thought that maybe he should be worried that Abby was the woman he'd spent the most nights with over the course of his life. Not actually 'spent with', but ya know, on the futon on her lab floor.

For almost a year now it had been just Tony and Gibbs in the field, with Abby and Ducky back at base. Tony actually felt like he had a secret identity as the sidekick to a superhero for all those months. There was the regular guy who slept at his own apartment, went on dates with pretty girls, and actually had the chance to hang out with friends. Then, there was the secret agent man. That was the one who spent all his time on cases (which was the only real way to get anything done when you were a two man team that was supposed to be four), and caught most of his sleep on the floor of Abby's lab.

At the beginning it had taken two weeks for Tony to get Abby to like him and establish their tradition. _Two weeks_. No female had ever withstood any variation of the DiNozzo charm for that long before. He'd been playful-Tony (which made her think he was stupid), rogue-Tony (which made him dangerous _and _stupid), serious-Tony (stupid, dangerous and _dull_, which was a personality combination he didn't think a person could actually achieve, but whatever).

Tony realized it wasn't the proper amount of time he needed to get her to like him, it was the proper amount of blood spilled protecting Gibbs.

Mind you, Tony didn't figure that out until his first fight with a seriously stoned marine, which left him with a knife wound that ran the width of his thigh. There had been blood, and a rather petulant refusal on his part to go to the hospital. (Because it wasn't that bad, no matter what Gibbs said, and if Tony was _actually_ more worried about Gibbs firing him for being too reckless and needing a hospital trip would just be proof of that, then that was something Tony didn't really want to talk about). Then there was Ducky agreeing to mend Tony without a hospital trip while shooting several significant looks at his Boss (which Tony didn't really want to think about), and getting doped with scotch instead of pain killers ('cause he 'wasn't a pansy, Ducky') so the Doc could stitch the gash together while Tony was sprawled out on one of the autopsy tables.

Tony didn't quite remember how the rest of that night had gone (he blamed the scotch, and was pretty sure than contrary to his promise Ducky had slipped him some pain meds). But he woke wearing a pair of scrubs and curled up on a futon in Abby's lab, with the forensic scientist wrapped around him. She didn't act like there was anything hinky about cuddling with a guy she'd hated the day before.

Abby had been one of his best friends since that moment. There were movie marathons, dirty jokes, clubbing, and almost any time Tony spent more than two hours crashed on her lab floor, he'd wake up to an armful of Abby. And occasionally a raised eyebrow from Gibbs.

It was months after that first sleepover when Ducky accidentally made an offhand comment about Anthony's unfortunate history of getting stabbed. Sure, Tony had been threatened with a knife on their case that day, but that wasn't what Ducky was really talking about. He looked too sheepish after the comment for it to mean anything quite so straightforward. Tony asked Abby about it one of those mornings they were on her futon, and she told him about the fuzzy bits of getting stitched back together that night he'd been stabbed.

Apparently, between the pain and the alcohol he'd been rather… free, with his history. But the circumstances that got him talking also made it so he didn't remember much.

He remembered dropping Abby's hand from his so he wouldn't crush it when he clenched in pain as Ducky started the stitches. He didn't remember Abby coming in to autopsy, or taking his hand, though. He _did_ remember wrapping his hands around the blunt metal edge of the table to keep himself braced, and he definitely remembered Gibbs's hands on his shoulders to hold him to the table should he start thrashing from the pain. But it wasn't necessary. And Tony told him so. Which is when Abby said the rambling started.

"Boss, you really don't have to hold me down, I'll stay put."

"Really, DiNozzo? You been stitched together without painkillers before?"

"Sure Boss. Been stabbed before too. Same case actually. No big deal." He knew he remembered Gibbs's hands tightening on his shoulders, the pain not enough to make his memories quite that fuzzy.

He also _knew_ he remembered Abby muttering "Bossman, why wouldn't he have anesthetic?" But apparently Tony took it upon himself to answer. Abby said Tony had replied with a laugh, "Philadelphia, Abs. I was sure you would've read my file. I got stabbed right before I left Phillie."

Abby rested one hand on Tony's chest to calm his breathing, and the other hand ran a pass through his sweaty hair. It was Gibbs who spoke next, not Abby. She could tell something was wrong with this story from the flicker in the Bossman's eyes, but she didn't yet know what. "File says you were stabbed on an undercover assignment, DiNozzo. Your partner retired after that, and you left Philadelphia for Baltimore. Stabbed on the job means medical treatment. Means anesthetic."

Tony snorted. "Files not always right, Boss. You know that."

The world had gotten beyond fuzzy by that point, and though Ducky still denied it, Tony was pretty sure he'd been dosed with a needle to the thigh. Alcohol didn't cause lights to glow like they did in the memories. When he asked Abby for the rest of the story, she snuggled even tighter to his chest and went for summary rather than details, not really wanting to talk about it. He wasn't _sure_ what words he'd used, or their immediate responses, but he got the gist from Abby and the dreams that popped up every now and again.

"What should the file say, DiNozzo?"

Tony knew that no matter what, he would've sighed and tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing, like he didn't still get nightmares about it. "Partner was dirty, Gibbs. Tried to break up a drug ring, but turned out Sam was the middle-man for half the runners in Philadelphia. Makes sense when you think about it. Sam knew everybody in the business, had worked vice for years, guy was a legend. He took me under his wing, beat the shit out of the guys who almost let me get shot by a perp 'cause my dad's rich, and made me godfather to his first grandson. Old school Italian cop, great guy, called me his son."

Tony would have a half smile on his face, remembering just the good times, and there were a hell of a lot of good times with Sam for Tony to ramble about. "But he was dirty," Abby's voice would've cut through his memories, all hesitation and confusion at why Tony would talk about Sam with such fondness.

"Couldn't have been dirtier, Abs, if he rolled around in mud. Doesn't mean I didn't like him."

There would've been a head slap for that. Tony was sure of it. Probably not a big one because Ducky would've been irate about that, but just enough to get him back on task. "Right, Boss. Stabbing. Well, Sam had been the go between for dealers and cartels since long before I knew him, and I didn't pick up on a thing throughout the whole partnership. Long story short, I got sent undercover to bust up the ring he was a part of, very hush hush operation, they didn't even tell Sam I was doing it. Hell of a surprise when I meet the fence and it's my partner. He didn't out me to the bad guys, but we got into a mother of a yelling match as soon as we were alone." Tony chuckled again, "Somehow he thought he got to be more pissed at me for not telling him I was undercover than me pissed at him for corruption. Hell of an argument."

Abby said she started crying when Tony said he had liked his partner despite the dirt, and just couldn't stop herself from letting the tears drop. He thought he could remember peeling his hand away from around the table and brushing his thumb across some of the tears, telling her not to cry. She thought Tony must've been awfully lonely to miss a man he should've hated.

"DiNozzo, what happened then?"

"Argument was in an alley behind a bar near the precinct, I couldn't carry around my gun 'cause I was still undercover, and, well, I didn't follow Rule 9 boss."

"Didn't know about Rule 9 back then, DiNozzo."

"Oh, right. Still… should've known better. It's just…" Tony held on to the pause, trying to clear his vision enough to hold Gibbs's gaze and get him to understand.

"He was your partner. You trusted him to do right by you. I get it, Tony."

"Exactly, Boss. Only Sam didn't seem to get the memo. Been a long time since I'd seen anybody quite that mad, Boss, especially when they were sober. But Sam wasn't too thrilled when I told him he either had to flip, or I was ratting him out too."

Abby said that was the moment Ducky couldn't take it anymore. He knew where the story had been going, but some part of him had desperately hoped he was wrong. He backed away from the table mid-stitch with a fervent curse, his hands shaking too badly to keep sewing.

"Definitely could've been worse, Boss. Didn't get any arteries, or internal organs. Another detective came out to the alleyway for a smoke, saw me, figured out exactly what happened, put me in his car and took me to his brother's house. Brother was a surgeon, flopped me down on the kitchen table in his apartment and, well, did this." Tony gestured his hand at the situation they found themselves in, only clamping his hand back down to the table when Ducky resumed stitching.

Gibbs shifted one hand from Tony's shoulder and rested in gently on Tony's forehead, occasionally drawing it back to run through his hair and calm him while the stitching wound down. "Why didn't they…"

"Couldn't, Boss. Couldn't protect me from the drug runners while I was at the hospital. And by the time I was anywhere near coherent Sam had flipped on the rest of the ring, the department pretended he'd been undercover the whole time, and he retired with full honors and his pension. Sam didn't wanna kill me, Boss. Just wanted to shut me up and send me to ground for a few days is all. Give him enough time to get all his ducks in a row, and to get me my transfer papers to whatever city I wanted that wasn't Philadelphia."

Ducky finished up with the wound, washed his hands, and pulled Abby into the hug she had been desperately waiting for. Tony felt the relief coursing through him that the medicine part of the evening was done, and all he needed to do now was slip into unconsciousness. Gibbs kept one hand in Tony's hair, running soothing strokes through it while he drifted off into peaceful oblivion.

"He _was_ a good partner, Boss. He loved me."

"Don't stab people you love, Tony."

"But he did, Boss!" Tony pulled his eyes back open, trying to make his point. "He had me over for Sunday dinners, taught me how to fix my car, all those little things, Gibbs. He was good at those."

"Yeah, Tony. I'm sure." He'd slipped all the way in unconsciousness then, and Abby was too busy trying to burrow her head into Ducky's shoulder to be able to tell Tony any more than they'd moved him to her futon, and Abby couldn't help but hunker down with him.

Tony didn't mind that spilling his guts was how the tradition of sleeping in Abby's lab began. Just like he didn't mind that none of them ever talked about Philadelphia again, or that Gibbs usually sucked at the little things. Like he didn't mind that the FBI put Sam away for corruption charges, something Gibbs would deny having anything to do with if, of course,it hadn't fallen under the heading of things they didn't talk about.

Nope. Tony didn't mind at all. He had Abby and Ducky for the little things, and Gibbs for the big ones. And damn, Gibbs did big pretty well.

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A/N: I've meant to keep all the stories as just a little insight into how/why the characters behaved at certain moments, but this one got away from me. I tried to write something trite are perky about the sleeping conditions in Abby's lab, but this came out instead. Hope you liked it.


	26. Think You're Gonna Fall

A/N: To the lovely RedHandedJill44, for leaving an awesome review and having a name from Peter Pan. I know you would've preferred something to do with Kate, but I'm afraid this is the voice that wouldn't leave me alone.

2x05 – Bone Yard – The one where Fornell gets accused of being a mafia mole and Gibbs makes it better.

**26. Stand When You Think You're Gonna Fall**

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The right thing and the just thing are _never_ the same thing. The sooner you learn that, the better off your mental health will be.

Right would happen when the judge knew every mitigating circumstance, every intent, and every shred of remorse of the guilty party, and forgave them their sins accordingly. Justice though, Justice is a bitch. She would take every last pound of flesh the victim deserved, no matter what happened to the perp.

Eventually anyone who dealt in the law realized that Law tried to find a place between the two poles to satisfy them both. Everyone walks into the profession fighting for one team or the other, but eventually they all became the Law.

Except for the best of them. The legends at any agency were the ones who told the middle ground to screw itself and kept fighting for their side.

Tobias Fornell was a Justice man. Most feds were. But Fornell had earned himself the rank of legend. In fact, he was damn close to mythic. There would songs about him by the time he retired. Which made the plummet down to someone the Bureau thought could be bought all the more painful. He was Tobias Fornell, dammit! His Probie's liked to call him badass behind his back, when they weren't calling him a bastard. He was incorruptible, and yet here he sat in a prison cell in the basement of the Hoover building.

He could've turned. At least a dozen times in the course of his investigation he'd been given the chance to turn to the mafia and make himself a wealthy man. It would've been simple. Become a millionaire, get some fake papers, take his daughter, run away to a beach somewhere. A lesser man would've done it. But his little girl never would've forgiven him. And no matter what sort of man he could've been, that was his daughter. Myth, Justice, Right, none of it mattered compared to his girl.

That's why he asked Jethro for help. He was just as much of bastard, just as much of a myth, and most important of all, father to a little girl he would move heaven and hell to do proud. That made him incorruptible. Helped matters that Gibbs was a Justice guy himself.

So when Fornell tasted his coffee, he knew exactly what Jethro had dropped in it, and knew exactly what the plan was. Not the whole of it, but knew he was going to be faking dead, and knew it without any need for conversation.

Jethro would help Tobias clear his name, and then off the two of them would go, hunting Justice.


	27. Bend When You Think You're Breaking

A/N: This is really more in the dead space between seasons, but is triggered by events in Hiatus, so I went with that. And I figured since the last one was so short, ya'll get two today.

3x24 – Hiatus Pt 2 – The one where Ziva and Abby slap one another around because Abby's mad Ziva isn't showing more emotion over Gibbs being in a coma.

**27. Bend When You Think You're Breaking**

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It took Ziva eleven days to turn up at one a.m. at Abby's apartment with a bottle of bourbon.

Gibbs had left D.C, and though each one of them had gone through their own contacts to find where he was, and that he was still alive, they all still pretended they didn't know. Though, knowing his location and knowing how to contact him were two different things, and Ziva was sure only Abby had the latter.

Tim and Tony had ended up hanging out over the last two weekends. The first time had merely been a chance to let Tony get so drunk he couldn't see straight, which was a pristine moment without the pressure heaped so suddenly on his shoulders. He needed it. And Tim needed the chance to step up and feel like he _could_ be there for Tony, like Tony tried to be there for Gibbs. But Tony would let Tim help, he wouldn't try to do it alone.

There'd been a few days of adjustment time while everyone found their new skin, and the rest of the team couldn't stop themselves from reminding Tony that he wasn't Gibbs. But Ducky had set that to rights. Ziva and Tim had been complaining to Ducky about the whole mess in autopsy when the usually gentle Ducky slammed his hand down on the table and threw them out of his sanctuary, hissing at them that they "would do well to remember they weren't the only ones abandoned".

That was the last Ducky about any of it, but he didn't complain when the team behaved like a team again, and turned up at his house on Saturday nights with movies from the 40s that Mrs. Mallard seemed to love. Though he smiled when the team started calling Tony, "Boss", he didn't tell them that the night after they did was the second time Tony got wasted. (He'd turned up on Ducky's porch that night, apologizing for Gibbs' absence since he wouldn't do it himself.)

Everyone else had rediscovered their inter-team balance, except for Ziva and Abby. They could all move forward, they could become something new, and Ziva knew that. Someone just had to take the first step. So she went to Abby's apartment late, on a school night, and they passed the bottle of bourbon back and forth for a while, talking about books and what they should watch for the next team movie night, and foregoing cups for the dwindling bottle.

They did that for two hours. The longest either of them had ever gone without yelling at the other. But it wasn't long before Ziva decided it was time for sleep. They exchanged goodnights and she walked to the door, but paused at the handle. She'd come here to talk, to make Abby understand something about her personality, but talking required that she actually open up her mouth and _speak_ about what she intended. Which was something Ziva didn't do with emotions.

She wasn't a child! She could do this, she could speak! She drew a deep breath, and tried to explain, but kept her focus on the closed door in front of her. "My grandfather was Josef David. He was my father's father, but it was mother who insisted he stay in our home when he grew older. Her father had died years before, and it was Josef she loved as her own. He spent the whole of my childhood in an apartment next to our house.

"He helped my mother raise us, sat with at the table while we did our homework, tried to make it so we didn't miss him when our father never really came home. He was Ari's moral compass for years, and he tried to talk me out of joining Mossad. He was … he was everything to us, Abby. Everything.

"There was night, a night when Ari and I were much younger, and we had a sleepunder at his apartment. He put Ari and I in the spare bed, and over the course of the night Ari spread out more and more, taking the whole of the mattress and all the sheets, leaving me curled up and shivering in a little corner while he slept comfortably spread out. Papa Josef didn't know I was awake when he came in to check on us.

"He tugged Ari slowly over to his own half of the bed, never waking him. And then, he very gently uncurled me, Abby. He moved so slow, so softly, trying not to wake me. So unlike my father. Josef tucked me back in on my own half of the bed, ran his fingers through my hair, and kissed me on the forehead. And I never told him I was awake. It meant too much to speak of. Knowing so _surely_ that he loved me."

Ziva kept her focus on the door she should've been walking through, and in her nervousness kept twisting the doorknob back and forth, stroking the metal. Just something to do with her hands while she struggled to put her emotions into words.

"He wasn't himself at the end. I'm sure there was some medical cause for it, but I never asked. He just, just started _fading_ when my sister died. Then Mossad kept sending me abroad, and … he stopped knowing me when I came back."

Ziva stiffened at Abby's arms wrapping around her from behind, uncomfortable with the hug, but grateful the goth wasn't making her talk anymore. The connection between Josef and Gibbs remained unspoken, because Abby was clever enough to get there on her own, and kind enough to not make Ziva speak of it. But it was enough truth, enough understanding, that Abby didn't hate her anymore.

Ziva just couldn't do it again. Couldn't live through another man who meant everything not remembering her name. Abby could forgive her for that.


	28. Strenth When You Know You're Shaking

A/N: The next few are going to have a Tony focus to them, sorry about that. Didn't mean to get all single character focused on you, but for some reason those are the ones that demanded to be written, while the ones I had originally written for these next few spots turned out _awful_. Hence the delay in new posts. Thanks for reading and staying with me!

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4x07 – Sandblast – The one where Sharif keeps leaving bombs and NCIS is trying to track him down. Better known as the introduction of Colonel Hollis Mann.

**28. Strength When You Known You're Shaking**

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So... this was stupid. Unbelievably, and impressively stupid. Even for the two of them.

Gibbs had caught the glint in Ziva's eye when Tony pointed out the bomb, and he'd made sure the two of them left the warehouse. Which concern Ziva had noticed, and then decided to ignore.

Gibbs didn't like it when they played with bombs, especially when they played with bombs after he told them to get the hell out of the building. Which in Gibbs-speak meant 'don't play the hero and get yourselves killed by trying to diffuse the damn bomb'.

Apparently Ziva didn't speak Gibbs. Or she did, and likes the other eight languages she spoke, just pretended she didn't understand it when the situation suited her.

Now, they were ignoring as close to an order as Gibbs would ever give regarding their safety. The man didn't like to admit he didn't want any of them to die, so telling them to leave the bomb for EOD was the best he could do. It didn't really translate from Gibbs-speak into words, just into a feeling of warm, paternal concern that asked them not to make him bury another child.

Tony talked when he was nervous, and right now, adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from having a panic attack. "This has to be the stupidest thing any human being has ever done." And he meant it. Though he wasn't sure if it was stupid because of the bomb, or stupid because even if the bomb didn't kill them, Gibbs would.

"Then why are you following me, Tony?"

He wanted to say, 'Because you're my partner. Idiot.' But went instead with his traditional denial of real emotion when about to be faced with certain death. "I don't freakin' know."

He kept up the nervous mutters to himself while Ziva and her dancer's build slid over pipes and beams, all the while wearing high-heeled boots. Tony spared a moment to be envious of the fact that Ziva wasn't clinging to every beam they passed like it was the only thing between her and an incredibly painful drop. Which, well, it was.

Ziva pulled out her favorite knife (something Tony was sure had endeared her to Gibbs from the beginning) and started tugging away at the pieces of the bomb. She handed him the cell phone detonator with a blunt, "Here, hold this." She was nervous. He could hear it in those three words. If you didn't know Ziva as well as Tony did you'd thing she was irritated with the bomb for being impertinent enough to exist, but that tenseness in her tone wasn't annoyance, it was fear.

"Any idea what's gonna happen if this cell phone rings?" Ziva didn't acknowledge his question, despite his delivery of it without the fear that was gripping her. Ziva flexed her fingers for a moment, keeping her eyes on the bomb, and went to work.

Tony took another ill-timed moment to appreciate that Ziva was graceful even when dismantling bombs. The plastic control box was popped open with a deft flick of her wrist, and she sorted through the cords without trembling hands. But she was still nervous. Despite the steady focus, her breathing said she knew what she was doing, but she wasn't _sure_.

So Tony helped in the only way he could in this situation, he joked. "I can see down your shirt right now." 'There we go.' he triumphed in his mind when Ziva cracked a smile.

"I don't think your new girlfriend would like that." Ziva's tone was slightly mocking, but more genuinely interested then she would ever admit. That told Tony she was still nervous, and more nervous then he wanted someone to be when stopping the bomb sitting next to him. This was not the time for her to feel alright about provoking a deathbed conversations, which they both knew that was the only time Tony would actually _discuss_ a serious relationship.

"What are you talking about? I don't know what you're talkin' about." Two could play this game. If she wanted to talk about Jeanne, who Tony had been very specific not to mention, then Tony could just as emphatically _not_ want to talk about her.

"I'm talking about you, and the fact that you no longer _stare_ at every woman when they pass you by." Her graceful fingers kept at the bomb, calm and assuring in their progress. Alright, apparently talking about this was doing her good, uncomfortable Tony or not.

"Well, I'm lookin' down your shirt right now."

"See anything good?"

"Yeah... real good, but I'm not entirely sure it's worth dying" and she sliced the wires. Didn't give him any warning, no chance to say a last goodbye, just cut the damn wires. "Over."

Her surety came crashing back in. All nervousness at dismantling a bomb for the first time in months went away as she replied, "Not worth dying over. I'll remember that."

Her smirk was so easy, Tony wasn't sure he hadn't been the one getting played. He'd tried to calm her down, and apparently she'd been doing the same. Him keeping her steady for the bomb, and her keeping him steady for her.

"What if I said it was?" And she _was_ worth it. Not just her ... assets, the whole of her. Movie buddy, ninja chick, extreme realist, best friend, and sex symbol. All of it. He'd climb up on damn rafters to do nothing more than sit with her while she diffused a bomb. Of course she was worth it.

"Now you'll never know." But she still smiled. Who needed the words anyway when he was willing to sit on the rafters?


	29. Pray When Your Backs Against the Wall

A/N: So, this actually goes with 5x07 – Requiem, but with a bunch of moments that build up to it. There was a moment in that episode on the dock where it looked like Tony was praying, and that's where this all came from. But, Tony doesn't strike me as an overly religious man, so I wanted to show how he got there too.

Warning: There are some points where this is highly disrespectful to the man upstairs. Make no mistake, I love Him terribly and mean no _actual_ disrespect, but I wanted realism here. And there are some points where Tony is legitimately mad at Him, and so Tony needed to chance to actually sound like he was mad. If that upsets you, please venture no further. Oh, and the whole thing is internal monologue. In the warning section cause that might be stylistically offensive to some. ;)

**29. Pray When Your Backs Against the Wall**

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**1x20 – Missing** – The one where Tony gets abducted by the serial killer chick outside a bar and escapes from the sewers. This is set when he's trapped in the sewer.

Dear God, it's me, Tony.

Too inappropriate? Right. Well, you know me. I do inappropriate when under stress.

Yeah, like you know me. *mental snort*

Mom said you know what all of us are like, seeing as how you made us. Just like any father knows his children, but you and I both know that explanation definitely would've flown better if my actual father could do things like, I don't know, remember my _birthday_.

That was always my beef with you, you know that? What sort of _loving_ paternal figure are you that you'd send a guy like me to parents like them? Make no mistake, I loved my Mom, I just have to work really hard to remember only the moments where she was sober and not the ones where she drank my sea monkeys. Or really, the ones where she thought sea monkeys would be a good idea. Lets not even get started on Senior and his emotional neglect with my desperate need for attention, shall we?

You know what, screw this. I'm trapped in a sewer with a morbid marine waiting for a psychopathic serial killer to come back, and I'm actually trying to pray. Do you know what it takes for me to even _attempt _to talk to you?

We haven't spoken since you killed Mom. Which, according to her you'd know, but I don't really believe that you pay all that much attention to me. If you're even there at all.

But you know what, I thought I'd try anyway! But you probably don't actually give a shit that I'm here, alone, terrified, and not really praying 'cause I _want_ to, but because _Kate_ would want me to. She still believes you're there, and you know what? If I was her, I probably would too.

You love her. She's a good girl. Doesn't drink too much, doesn't sleep around, doesn't sass you. And she still means the world to me. Don't worry, I won't lure your precious Kate into my lovely amoral lifestyle. (Though seriously man, I catch killers for a living. How pissed at me can you be because I like sex?)

Whatever.

You're not going to listen to me anyway. Like with the living, breathing father you gave me, talking is overrated.

But, ya know. If you do ... I'd like to not die.

And this is _totally_ not about me. 'Cause you and I both know I've been in shittier situations than this and not needed your help. This is about the marine I'm with moaning hopelessly to himself, and I really don't want to die listening to that. And this is about Kate, and how even _her_ faith will get the wind knocked out of it if I die the gruesome death the other marines have. And well, Gibbs won't miss me, but he'll be _pissed_ if you let me die. And whatever you think of me, _you've_ gotta_ love_ Gibbs. He's a caffeine addicted bastard, but he's totally one of your favorite avenging angels.

So, just. I would like to not die. If that's at all possible. If you're even listening, which you're totally not, 'cause I'm panicking here, and talking to _myself_ and ... the bolt chaining me to the wall just came loose.

Well damn. I will thank you for that later. Gotta escape now. Um, bye?

* * *

**2x22 – SWAK –** The one where Tony gets the plague. Set when he's in isolation.

So ... we meet again.

How've ya been?

I've been, well ... I don't think you ever really classify me as _good_, but I haven't been nearly as bad as I _could've _been.

Once again, if I could just take a moment to point this out, this prayer isn't about me. Just like last time. Other than the whole, me not wanting to die from the pneumonic plague portion of today's events. But, ya know, that's only tangentially connected.

*Several minutes of hacking coughing*

Sorry about that.

Wait. Ya know what? I'm not sorry.

I have the damn pneumonic plague! You know what the statistical probability is of that?

Of course you do. You created the damn thing. Can I just tell you, this is definitely one of your creations I don't appreciate! And seriously, how many of your supposed _children_ have you killed with this damn disease? It's the plague! You wiped out one freaking third of Europe with this thing! Who does that? What _parent_ does that!

*Pause for more heart wrenching coughing*

So ... apparently you don't like it when I yell at you. Keeping that in mind.

I wasn't kidding though. About, ya know, the part before the emotional breakdown. (Which was totally justified in my book, by the way. Seeing as how I'm trapped under blue lights trying not to hate my formerly favorite color while I'm drowning in my own fluids from a medieval disease.)

Right, focus Tony. I _can_ focus. I swear.

Now, you know I'm grateful that it's me who got sick, and not the others. Out of all of us, I'm the one this should hit. I'm the one who can handle it. So, it's a small mercy that I'm thankful for. And not just 'cause if someone's gonna die, it should be me. Which you and I totally both know. Kate and McGee have families who would never get over them, and the world just _needs _Gibbs. I mean, who would date all the redheads if he wasn't around to do it?

Here's the thing: as glad as I am to be the guy spread out on this table, I would really, _really_ like it if you don't send me to an autopsy table. I don't think Ducky could take it.

*lungs seize up. No coughing, they just won't expand properly*

Ok, it's not just that. You know how I feel about the team. You've got Probie, who's this nerdy, brilliant baby brother that I was asking you for about 25 years ago, but better late than never.

And then there's Kate. She's my sister. And do you know how long it's been since I've had a female friend with whom sex hasn't been _at all_ part of the equation? No sex, or making out, or fake dating, or physical comfort of any sort? Of course you know. Kate and my mother say you're omniscient. So we'll just _pretend_ you do actually know for this little exercise.

And we've had this conversation before, you and I. It's just _mean_ to kill me off from something like this. Kate would never forgive you.

*smaller bought of coughing, but enough to steal his breath*

FINE! She'd forgive you, all right! And Ducky will find some philosophic way to get through the whole thing, 'cause he's seen enough death to know how to deal! And though McGee will_ totally_ miss me more than he'll admit, he and Abby will tumble into her coffin realizing life is too short, and they'll name their first-born son after me, with Gibbs as the grumpy godfather, and no one will even make any good Godfather jokes!

There! Are you happy now! I just don't want to die! I just ... I don't wanna die.

I want whatever faith they all have in you to make up for all the faith I _don't_ have. 'Cause I don't have any. We both know that. I don't even think you're actually there listening to me. I just, I don't wanna go yet.

The injuries before, all those times in other departments where I kept thinking that if it was ever time to start talking to you again, it was then. I couldn't do it. But now, now I can talk. Now I _need_ to.

Gibbs told me not to die. Did you know that? He walked in here and told me not to die. 'Cause he knows me. Too damn well. Like _you're_ supposed to know me. He knows that if I think I'm being too much of a bother I'll let myself slip into the dark. But he told me not to.

He gives a crap. _They_ give a crap. Kate was crying earlier. If I die, they'd miss me. You know how long it's been since I thought someone would miss me?

Just, I don't really know how to deal with this sort of thing. I mean ... seriously. I think, I think they might love me. I don't know what in hell I'm supposed to do with that. I just, I don't think I'm allowed to die. I think they'd miss me. Like, really _miss_ _me_.

So, please. I'd like to not die. If you could help me with that, I'd be, ya know, grateful. It would mean a lot to me. So, please. Please.

**

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3x02 - Kill Ari (Part 2) –** The one where Ziva kills Ari and they bury Kate. Set after the funeral.

You really are a bastard, you know that? Is this what you saved me for? Just so I could watch Kate die? Just so I could hear her laugh one last time before her blood and brains painted my face?

Is this what you kept me alive for, so I could feel _this_?

*Deep breaths. Several minutes of them, all the while trying not to cry*

It can't be undone. I know that. I've lost partners before.

And maybe you just took her because you love her. I can see that. You didn't want her to have to mix with the scum of the earth anymore. She learned what you sent her to learn, and she was too good for the rest of us. I just, it would've been nice if you'd taken her in a less ... well, _shitty_ manner.

She didn't deserve to go the way you took her. That's all I'm saying.

You know what? I've stood outside this cathedral at least once a day ever since you took her. Trying to find something to say to you that wasn't telling you just how much I hate you. But, I still do. I've been trying not to, 'cause Kate would want me to forgive you. But I hate you.

I came in, I lit my candle, I kneeled down, I said my prayer, and maybe in a while I'll be able to talk to you without the desire to call you a rat bastard. But, we're not there yet.

I just, um. Tell Kate I miss her, and I love her. And, just ... I gotta go.

*Moves to stand up, but pauses for a moment.*

But, look after her for me. Keep her safe, and happy. I may _hate_ you, but I'm trusting you here. Take care of her.

**

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4x01 – Shalom –** The one where Ziva calls Gibbs back from Mexico to help her, and then he leaves again. Set after Gibbs takes off without saying goodbye.

I didn't come to you when he was in a coma, and maybe this is my punishment for ignoring you then. I was a little busy, but you and I both know this is a bit of a vindictive relationship we've got going here, and you're a bit of an attention-whore, just like me.

I know, this isn't the sort of relationship a person is supposed to have with God, but it's all I've got to give. And right now, I'm not sure which one of you guys is a bigger bastard.

Sure, he's the one who played emotional hacky-sack with me for years, making me love him like he was my own damn father, making me a better man than I thought I could be, then running off to Mexico and leaving me to look after the family all on my own. (And they've been _awesome_, by the way. The team stepped up. We've been good together, like the family we are. I don't know if you had anything to do with that, but if you did ... ya know, thanks.) Then _he_ comes running back in like a damn superhero, reminding everyone just what it's like to have Dad around, ripping everyone up again, and leaving me to pick up the pieces. Just like last time.

We let him in. We welcome him home. He runs off again. I hate him right now. But not as much as you.

Why, you ask? Because you're the one who let him get blown up! You're the one who let his brain get scrambled all to hell! And you're the one who made this my damn family in the first place! You've both screwed me up so bad that despite the fact I hate you both all I want is for you to watch after him until he gets his head on straight and comes back home to us! Who the hell wants that?

You both suck, and I don't want to talk to either one of you. Where in the world are you both when I want you around? You give me what I don't want, then take it away when I'm finally grateful I've got it.

Whatever.

Screw the both of you.

**

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5x07 – Requiem –** The one where Gibbs drives his car into the bay and almost drowns trying to save Kelly's friend. Set when Tony's on the dock trying to resuscitate the friend after pulling her and Gibbs from the car.

Breath. Dammit. Breath.

I left him. He's sitting there, two feet behind me, not breathing! He'll never forgive me if this girl doesn't live, which means that I'm trying to keep her alive while he's dying!

I can't ...

I can't do this again.

I can't bury another one of them. I swear to you, I'll eat my own gun if he doesn't get off this dock the man he was before he went into that water.

Please.

I know haven't talked in long time, and I know you probably haven't killed me yet 'cause Kate and my mother are pleading my case. But, please.

Don't let him die.

This is me _begging_ here. Whatever you want, you got. A candle, hail marys, chastity, sobriety, faith. ANYTHING.

But please. Let him breath. _Give him back._

I can't. do. this. again.

Please, Papa.

Please.


	30. Scared of the End?

6x02 - Agent Afloat - The one where Tony comes home from being on the Seahawk.

**30. Are You Scared of the End?**

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Four months of knock down, drag out fights with Leroy Jethro Gibbs. It would be enough to make a lesser man cry. But Leon Vance wasn't a lesser man. The four months had ranged from less than subtle, "if we had McGee here, he could..." to outright hostile, "dammit Leon, I don't care if you like Eli, the man is going to get her killed!" Four months of a royally pissed off Gibbs and not telling him the real reason for it.

Leon figured just ferreting out the mole would be good enough motivation to Gibbs, but apparently not near as much as telling him he could get his team back.

Mossad needed Ziva to hunt down the mole's middle-man, and Vance needed McGee in the basement cracking codes. When their tasks were done Vance brought them both back, just like Gibbs asked for. Those two had things they still needed to learn from Gibbs. Things he could make out of them. Ziva needed to be taking orders from someone she trusted, and McGee still needed to learn how to call a play. Until she trusted someone other than Gibbs, and he was sure enough to follow his gut, Vance would send them back to Gibbs every time.

Vance gave Gibbs every damn last thing he asked for. But Gibbs still wanted more.

Vance had watched Abby re-stocking Tony's desk, listened to the team mourn his absence, all putting pressure on Gibbs to bring Tony back to DC. Pressure which Vance ignored trying to get Gibbs to adopt one of Vance's agents. Gibbs may not be Vance's brand of agent, but there was no doubting his talent. He had a few boys from San Diego with computer skills who would flourish with the field experience Gibbs could give them.

Gibbs thought DiNozzo was on the ship for punishment, but Gibbs' gut was wrong about it this time. It wasn't really about DiNozzo at all. Gibbs had a hell of a lot to give to junior agents. If they could survive him. At the beginning of his reign as the best there ever was, Gibbs had burned through agents, but even those few months with Gibbs were enough to make them better than two years with any other agent. But about eight years ago Gibbs had settled in and stopped pitching new agents off his team like they were contagious. He'd kept this team around him, giving them MCRT an almost perfect record, but stopping Gibbs from training new recruits like would've benefited the agency.

If Leon had been promoted to Director instead of Jenny, DiNozzo would've been immediately sent to agent afloat anyway. LA or no LA. Vance wasn't a fan of DiNozzo's old school style, but that didn't change the fact that he was good at what he did. DiNozzo should've spent the last few years spreading what Gibbs had taught him, not stagnant as a second to Gibbs.

He'd passed up chances to be a team lead in Rota, San Diego, Florida, and New York. Offers for any city he wanted from the FBI, Homeland Security, Interpol and the CIA. Along with half a dozen private corporations all waiving enough money at him to turn anyone's head. To say nothing of the standing offers to join _any_ agency as someone else's second and make a real boss out of them, just in case Tony didn't really like being the guy, he liked being the guy the guy counts on.

All of them turned down to stay with Gibbs.

Everyone knew that Gibbs had picked his successor. DiNozzo would either replace Gibbs because he was dead, wounded, or got pushed too far by politics. But no matter how Gibbs went out, DiNozzo was the one Gibbs wanted taking up his gun.

That was all settled and had been for years. What the agency needed to know was if DiNozzo would keep living without Gibbs. He'd done it before, for a few months. But apparently everyone had had their money on Gibbs coming back at some point, they were all just waiting to give him a reason. Tony's loyalty had been to Gibbs from the moment he stepped into NCIS, and should Gibbs decide he was really and truly done with being a federal agent, there was no saying DiNozzo wouldn't follow him out.

DiNozzo needed to be something other than Gibb's right hand for a while. Needed to not be half their super hero dynamic. Vance needed to send DiNozzo away to see whether or not Robin would step and be Batman when the original laid down his cape.

And now Vance had his answer.


	31. Scared to Begin?

**A/N:** Apologies for my tardiness, and for the shortness. I'm afraid for all my trying these next two didn't come out very well, so I post them simultaneously to get them out of the way. Thanks for still reading, and we're almost to the end!

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7x24 – Rule #51 – If you haven't watched it yet, I'm not going to tell you about it. Don't want to spoil you too badly.

**31. Are You Scared to Begin?**

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'Shit.'

It was the only thing McGee could think as Tony got called back in to the Director's office. He watched Tony go in, a picture of calm, and wanted to curse again.

His mother would've had words with him about swearing, even mentally, ("Just because you're a Federal Agent now doesn't mean you should forget your manners, Timothy"), but that didn't make the word choice any less appropriate.

It was real calm, not fake calm. Meaning Tony knew what he was getting called in for, and was fine with it. Never a good thing.

Tony didn't _get_ called into Vance's office. It didn't happen. Sure, Vance had developed a respect for Tony since he out-maneuvered the Director of Mossad, but Vance didn't call on Tony for special assignments. And yes, McGee liked Vance. Partly because Vance liked_ him_, and because Vance was a computer guy, but there was more to it.

Even when Vance didn't like Tony, he had kept his mouth shut about Jenny.

About the vendetta, her using Tony, him getting his heart broken, his almost dying, and her actual dying. McGee knew Gibbs thought Vance had sent Tony to be agent afloat as a punishment, but Tim didn't think it was really about that. He had _no idea_ what the reason actually was, but McGee thought Vance was a good enough guy to trust Vance's judgment. And not just because Tim couldn't help but trust authority figures, but when Vance didn't bring Jenny up again, even when a lesser man would've used it to chip away at Tony, McGee believed in him.

McGee thought Vance had learned from Jenny's mistake. But now Tim thought he might've been wrong. Vance called Tony in for a one-on-one chat, without telling Gibbs, and then Tony missed Ziva's ceremony. She kept two chairs open, right next to her, looking over at them as though they'd sneak in just in time. All the while waiting for Tony and Gibbs. But they didn't come. Neither one.

And Vance let her wait. He could've said, 'Hey, Ziva. Tony's on assignment, we don't have to save him a chair.' But he didn't. That was bad. Not just because McGee was worried his trust had been misplaced, but because of what it meant for the team.

That meant Tony was doing something dirty. And was doing it without Gibbs as backup.

Again.

The team was entering a new condition with this. Something they'd never faced before, and Tim wasn't sure how it would go down. Tony was willfully ignoring Gibbs, doing something undercover, and alone. Just like he did before, but now it was something he should've known better than to do.

It looked like they were in a new world now, and all McGee could hope was that it _wasn't_. He wanted to have read the signals wrong. That Tony wasn't somewhere alone, and Gibbs wasn't going to be pissed.


	32. Scared of the Start?

3x10 - Probie - The one where McGee accidentally shoots an undercover cop.

**32. Are You Scared of the Start?**

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Gibbs guarded McGee from Metro. Tony guarded McGee from doubt.

He was a good kid, an honest kid, and there was no way he spooked and shot a guy without cause. He wasn't just making crap up about McGee for Ziva's benefit. The kid was good. Good to the core, 'pure of heart' as Abby's tarot cards had called it. McGee didn't shoot people.

It was Gibbs' job to keep the Probie out of jail, and it was Tony's job to keep him out of a mental hospital. And that meant drinking. At least to _Tony_ it meant drinking. Kill the brain cells that held the memory you didn't want. Apparently McGee didn't want alcohol though, McGee wanted conversation. Tony was not the man for that job, but he was definitely better suited to it than Gibbs.

He begged Tony to just leave him alone at his apartment, not wanting to be teased. But Tony knew from a hell of a lot of experience that being left alone to _think_ after shooting someone only messed up the memory. (Hence his preferring to kill the brain cells). The more you thought about it, the more tangled it became. All the things outsiders told you must have happened start shifting the real memory in your own mind. And if there was one thing McGee couldn't do, it was get himself to _stop_ thinking. He was drowning in thoughts, and that wouldn't go well after this experience.

"Tony, I'm not like you guys. You were trained as a cop, Gibbs was a marine sniper, Kate protected the President of the United States, God only knows what Ziva did with Mossad. My background is biomedical engineering and computer forensics." The explanation was so rational and well thought, that to McGee it must've made sense. In his mind, background and training determined potential, and left to those thoughts McGee would destroy himself.

"I don't think I'm cut out to be a field agent." With that breathy confession, Tony couldn't help but think of confessing to his priest as a little boy. Letting out your deep dark secret, the worst of your fears, and hoping the person you told it to could take it all away. (Though Tony wasn't exactly sure how he ended up as the priest in this story.)

He settled down next to McGee, evening out the playing field rather than peering down at him and his vulnerable position from a height. Like how you were supposed to talk to kids. Tony mussed his own hair, and decided that though this was one of the more mortifying moments of his life, Probie was worth telling it to. "First time I shot at someone, I wet my pants."

"Really?" The kid sounded like the hope was trickling back in. Made it worth it. Probie would probably never use the ammunition Tony just gave him, but it was a dangerous weapon nonetheless.

"Really. If you tell anyone that, I will slap you silly. You got anything to eat?" Now it was time to move past the talking, and the thought, and get Probie into something physical. There would be food, and a movie, and keeping Probie up so late that exhaustion carried him so far down that he wouldn't have the energy to dream.

"I know it's bad, I've been where you are, but a week from now it'll all be behind you. Just a bad memory." It was a lie, they both knew it. Any time IA started asking Probie about shots fired this memory would come raring back, sucking him down into a place where he didn't trust his own judgment. But they'd see him through.

No matter what, Gibbs would guard the Probie from everything outside, and Tony would guard him from everything in.


	33. Afraid They'll Break Your Heart?  2

5x03 - Ex File - The one where Gibbs' ex wife is a material witness and Colonel Mann is around.

**33. Do You Think They'll Break Your Heart?**

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You don't ever really get Jethro Gibbs out of your system. Hollis knew that from the first time she saw Jenny Shepard do a far-away smile at Jethro when she thought no one was looking. And if Hollis didn't know it then, she knew it when his team looked at him like he was an idiot for thinking they would leave while Ziva disarmed that bomb in Georgetown.

The CID psychologist had warned her about the impact Jethro Gibbs had on people. As she had phrased it, 'there was something inherently reckless in his nature that appealed to the deep-seeded cowboy mentality all Americans still carry, even when they pretend they've evolved beyond it'. Basically, he should be roaming around in a white cowboy hat while dramatic music played in the background, just to solidify the effect.

Their psychologist was a good friend of Mann's, and she'd known from the second she started rooting through Jethro's file that Hollis would fall for him. Provided, of course, that Gibbs actually flirted back. Jethro Gibbs was the sort of man who got what he wanted. Whether what he wanted wanted to be got or not.

Hollis didn't mind that the psychologist had called the play. She liked being wanted by Gibbs. His steady presence, his kind eyes, and the sure knowledge that for the rest of her life, no matter what happened between them here, if she called him from trouble he'd come.

It was something his ex, Stephanie, knew as well. They wouldn't ever get back together, but once he cared about you, he never stopped. It wouldn't stay the same sort of caring, but what it evolved into was enough to bring him running when trouble found someone who used be his. The psychologist had thought that Jethro simply didn't have it in him to love that well, and that loyally, for the long term. She'd postulated to Hollis that subconsicously it was too much permanence for the former marine, a weakness to be exploited in depending that much on someone else.

Hollis didn't agree with the psychologist.

She agreed at the beginning, considering the psychologist had never been wrong about a person before. But the more she watched, the more she knew it wasn't a matter of weakness. The best explanation Hollis heard for Gibbs came from DiNozzo, which was a fact that surprised her less and less. Ducky would've had the same opinion of Gibbs, she was sure, he just would've stated it with more grace.

The 'kids', as Jethro sometimes called them, had gotten together for movie night the weekend before, and Tony was trying to make McGee understand something about the character development. (Which was a scenario Hollis never thought she would see).

"I'm not saying that it's not an interesting idea, Tony. I'm saying that it doesn't make any rational sense!"

"Were you not paying attention, Probie? Of course it makes sense!"

"No, it doesn't! You couldn't keep an untamed horse in the old west, Tony. They'd run off as soon as they got the chance. They're not _cats_, they don't stay just because someone's feeding them."

"Probie, just because something's wild doesn't mean it won't stay with you just because it wants to."

"That doesn't make any sense! Things are tamed or not. They can't be _half_-wild."

"_Probie_." Tony said just the nickname but intended it to mean, 'you have _got_ to be kidding me, do you not pay attention at all?'. He gave a rather pointed look to Jethro's empty desk, and as a blend of understanding and confusion flickered McGee's face, Tony said, "Makes it all the better when something wild _choses_ to stay with you just 'cause it wants to."

Hollis told Gibbs about the overheard conversation later that night, and though Jethro had been quiet for the rest of the evening, quiet even for him, he still accidentally called them 'the kids'. That was the first time she noticed the slip. It only came when Jethro was beyond proud at their antics, or had been terrified for their safety. Only when the emotion of the day ran away with him and he couldn't help himself anymore. Hollis knew then that the team understood that Gibbs stayed with them, they just didn't understand why. And she hadn't either, right until the moment she heard the tape of Kelly at her piano.

Jethro didn't give his heart away twice. He'd let people in, then let them out, like waves on the shore. Those he **kept**, he kept until his dying breath.

After his family, he'd probably let Ducky in first, a best friend was something he hadn't just lost to murder, so that would've been easier. Then it would've been Abby. She wouldn't have started as a daughter to him, but more someone he could've seen a his baby girl's best friend. Loving Abby like his own flesh and blood would've snuck up him, but once it was done, he wouldn't undo it. Tony would've been simple to let in. After all, he wouldn't feel like he was replacing a son when he didn't have one to replace. Once Abby snuck past the door in his heart to more children, and Tony camped outside it, yearning to enter but waiting to be asked, Jethro wouldn't have a problem with letting in Ziva and Tim. The damage was already done.

In Jethro's mind he had six children, one father, two brothers, plenty of ex-es, plenty of agents - and only one wife.


	34. Live Like You Think You're Dying  2

4x16 - Dead Man Walking - The one where Ziva falls in love with the guy dying of radiation poisoning.

**34. Live the Way You Think You're Dying**

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**

He would stay perfect forever.

For the rest of her life all she would know of him was those few hours of absolute perfection before he died. She kept trying to tell herself that anyone can be perfect on the first day, especially when they know they're dying. Not to mention the whole affair was tinted by the romantic sense of having your love tragically frustrated by fate. (She chose to ignore that their one day together was making a romantic out of her, and making her think about chliches that were best found in movies).

More than all that, sheknew a person didn't fall in love after twelve hours.

She _knew_ all that.

Logically.

But that wasn't changing the way she felt.

For all her rational understanding of the cold reality that she didn't _really_ love him, it was just the circumstances, and human nature demanding that everyone be loved when they pass, especially the good and the brave - and Roy was both - she still felt it.

Ziva kept telling herself that on day two he would have smacked his lips while he chewed at dinner, and that would have annoyed her so much she wouldn't have gone on a second date. And on day 15 he probably would've been uncomfortable with her ability to kill him with a toothpick, a definite relationship ender. And on day 37 he might've asked about her father and panicked when she told him about some of the things she'd done for Mossad, and he would've run.

She knew all these were infinitely more likely possibilities than the dream she kept having of two small children, both with dark brown hair and wide eyes. But she couldn't help the vision of him living on, perfectly preserved as the man he was in those few hours.

He'd be charming forever. Fearless forever. Honest forever.

The perfection of a man who knew he was about to die and living like the man he had spent his whole life striving to be. She would've thought the best of him anyway, that's what you do for the dead, but this was all the worse because there was so much good to think of.

The memories of him would eat at her for the rest of her life. She knew it. No matter how desperately she tried to ignore it. She should've run when she had the chance. But now no matter how far she sprinted, Roy would be with her. In her.

The grief would never get better, but it would get less awful. That was the best she could hope for.

Any time she went running at the crack of dawn she'd see him on the bridge in her mind's eye. She'd have to change her route, change her time, maybe even change the park. The pain of it, of missing him, might lessen in time so she could go back to the places that once brought her joy, but not today.

She felt like a child! With all these years of training, she was supposed to be past falling so easily. The last time she'd been so helplessly attached to someone was Talia.

Her lovely baby sister.

Ziva thought she'd buried the agony of her death deep down inside and would never have to face it again. But then Gibbs had named her Archangel.

Not as some rotating code name that would change every assignment because Tony it was in charge and had too many characters to liken them all to, but the permanent kind, because Gibbs never said anything he didn't mean.

Talia had called Ziva her angel. A name she hadn't been called since her baby sister was put in the ground. She felt the knife slice through her soul the moment the name passed Gibbs' lips, and she thought it was an agony she'd long since been unable to feel. But there it was. Pain that was bright, shining, and exquisitely sharp.

It was all Gibb's fault. He'd gone and made her human. Told her emotions made her strong. Gave her a place where they were encouraged. And now she was bleeding inside.

She'd forgotten how to do this. How to let go of someone you loved. Heavens, she'd forgotten how to love properly. But Gibbs, damn him, had reminded her, and now she was paying the price.


	35. Laugh When You Feel Like Crying 3

2x11 - Black Water - The one where the novel writing Private Investigator that McGee wants to be when he grows up, fakes a murder for the reward money.

**35. Laugh When You Feel Like Crying**

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"Think about it, Kate! Every good Irish poem comes from _way_ too much alcohol, even for me. The whole Romantic movement was fueled by opium! And Shakespeare slept around! With _both genders_!"

Kate spat out from behind her desk, "They don't have any proof of that, DiNozzo."

"Seriously Katy-did, you mean to tell me that you think that the best of his sonnets being dedicated to 'Fair Youth' was just for fun?" Tony was propped up against the front of his desk, verbally poking Kate with a stick while she was trying to work on the files Gibbs was making her finish before she ran off on her date her with the millionaire brother of their accident victim.

She slammed down on her keyboard, trying to type furiously but not really getting anything down on paper because she was so flustered by Tony knowing enough about English literature to spar with her. "John Donne was a clergyman!"

"Pfft. Donne slept his way around for his whole misspent youth, then eloped with his wife. Sure, eventually he got all religious, but come on Kate, even his religious stuff is sexual." Tony sauntered over to McGee's desk, nudging him on the shoulder with a grin. "Come on McGee, you know I'm right."

"Ezra Pound!"

"Seriously, Kate?"

She looked back and forth between a smiling McGee and a smirking DiNozzo, and asked "What?" Tony put three fingers to his lips and dramatically sucked in, like he was toaking on weed. McGee broke down into giggles at the mortified look on Kate's face.

Kate sputtered for a second, giving Tony the opportunity to throw an arm around McGee and explain in his 'tour guide' voice, "You see, Probster, Kate is just mad that we now have conclusive proof that God doesn't seem to give a crap about mankind's extracurricular activities."

McGee smirked at the privilege of being in on the conspiratorial tone with Tony, but still managed to eek out a scolding, "_Tony_," anyway.

DiNozzo just grinned like the cheshire cat and continued, "That's what we need for you and that writing career you're dreaming about, Probie my boy!"

McGee flinched and blushed, thinking he'd hid his deep, dark dream better than that. Tony chuckled again and patted Tim on the shoulder, "Don't worry about it, McGee. I've got it all worked out. What we need is to get you a _vice_! Pick your poison my padawan learner, and I will get it for you. Wine, women, or song? Sex, drugs, or rock & roll? Fertility, inebriatity, or music?" (McGee laughed out loud again, both at Tony's antics and that the Stargate lessons with Tony and Abby were finally taking hold.)

Kate looked mortified, and Tim knew that Tony wasn't teasing Kate and being a cad to get a rise out of her, but just to keep McGee happy.

One of his modern literary idols had gone and ruined himself for money. He'd betrayed Tim as a fan and a detective, betrayed every case he'd every solved and the others who did it for a living, and probably the worst part of it to Tim, betrayed an art form that Tim adored. Tony didn't really understand it, but he got that it was a violation of something McGee treasured, by someone he idolized, and who should've known better. And all Tony could do about it was try to make him laugh.

Gibbs stalked into the bullpen, ignoring the thoroughly unprofessional state he found his agents in. "Gibbs! Tony is trying to corrupt McGee into a twisted miniature version of himself!"

Tony snorted, "Did you just _tattle_ on me, Katie?"

"I'm not _tattling_ Tony, I'm trying to protect McGee from your bad influence!"

Gibbs stepped behind his desk and without looking at any of them, asked, "Why are we getting McGee drunk, DiNozzo?" McGee was too baffled to realize that Gibbs knew exactly what Tony was trying to do for McGee. Gibbs had noticed the affect the spineless bastard they currently had in lockup had on McGee, just like DiNozzo had.

"Drunk _and_ laid, in a place with loud music, Boss."

Gibbs pocketed his gun and badge, then flipped off his computer and lights on his desk while he said, "Beer and steak in my living room, and if you can figure out how to turn on my radio we can listen to some jazz. Paperwork can wait until the morning, Kate"

Tony grinned since he'd known that was coming all along and quickly shut down all the electronics at his own desk. With McGee still too shocked to move, Tony shimmied back over and took care of his desk too, then hauled the Probie to his feet as they dashed to join Gibbs in the elevator.

Tony chortled, "See Probie! We'll get some bourbon in you then we'll go muse hunting."

Gibbs smacked Tony on the back of the head and muttered, "Doesn't need bourbon, DiNozzo. He just has to find what inspires him."

With an evil but expectant grin Tony asked, "And what inspires you, Boss? Redheads?" Gibbs just glared in response.

McGee smiled.


	36. Stand When You Think You're Gonna Fall 2

1x20 - Missing - The one where Tony gets abducted and thrown in the sewers.

**36. Stand When you Think you're Gonna Fall**

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Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!

It wasn't that he didn't know better, 'cause he did! He was Tony Freakin' DiNozzo, he ALWAYS knew better!

He couldn't believe this was actually bothering him. He felt like he'd sunk down to his twelve-year-old self where he still took every cut to heart and wanted nothing more than to curl up with his teddy bear and cry while a good movie carried him away.

That's how the film obsession started. During the first mandatory psychiatrist visit he had in Peoria, the shrink had told Tony he was using film as a way to separate himself from the painful reality of his own existence.

Tony had beaten the urge to tell the shrink to go screw himself. Just barely, but he'd beaten it.

Instead Tony pretended that his slightly unhealthy dependence on fiction was a thought that _hadn't_ dawned on him in the first grade when a teacher told him that Virgil Hilts from The Great Escape couldn't be his best friend because Virgil Hilts wasn't real.

DiNozzo Senior had been out of town on business, so Tony gave the letter from his teacher to his mother. She proceeded to burn it, and then watch every prison escape movie she could think of with Tony. Then they had the head butler lock them both in Senior's study, and they figured out how to break out. (It involved his Mama breaking a window, and Tony breaking a leg as he fell out of the tree they were trying to climb down.)

That hospital trip was the best one of his youth. Even better than the time he broke his arm trying to fly off his parent's balcony like Peter Pan, and definitely better then when Step-Mother #2 was so pissed at DiNozzo Senior for cheating on her that she took her wrath out on his only child. (Wife #3 may have made Senior send Tony off to boarding school, but at least she didn't shove him down stairs).

He loved to read, but Mama taught him that books took too much time and focus, so why indulge in those when you would take it easy with a film? His lovely Mama had the attention span of a gnat when she was drunk - meaning most of the time she had no idea what was going on.

He learned from his Mama that playing pretend was the only was to make it through the day. She would come home from her benders and her trysts at four a.m. and burst into Tony's room with a song. She'd crawl into his bed and wrap her arms around him, telling him how she couldn't let anyone see her. Not Papa, not Grand-Mama, and most certainly not whoever she'd spent the night with. She'd gather him into her arms, her wavy chestnut hair tumbling down her sweaty forehead and into her wide green eyes, and she'd chant to herself how only 'her darling Tonio' understood her.

He watched her at her parties, saw how she picked a different personality every night, changing herself like she changed a dress, all to match her date.

He learned the lesson well.

There was a reason Tony was the best undercover agent most of his employers had ever seen. He'd spent his whole life ducking in and out of personalities, adopting them each like they were the absolute truth, and not letting people know any different.

And then there was Gibbs.

Try as he might, and heaven knows he had tried, Tony couldn't get Gibbs to believe the lie. He'd let Tony prance around and pretend, just 'cause Tony was more comfortable that way, but Gibbs always knew the truth. And today that's what made Tony hurt like all hell. Gibbs knew the sort of man Tony really was inside, and could probably make some hauntingly accurate guesses about what exactly had gone into the making of Tony DiNozzo.

But Gibbs had done it anyway.

And now Tony had some of his more depressing rock music blaring full blast as he toured his apartment with a bottle of vodka in his fist while he tracked down his clubbing clothes.

Tony made a sport of running when he thought people were understanding him too well, just like his mother had. But then Gibbs, the bastard, had seen straight through Tony right off, and then told him he wasn't allowed to run. He'd given Tony a place, room to grow, and a person to learn from who was perfectly content to be exactly who he was and never change that personality for anyone. The bastard had given Tony stability, and strength, and someone to depend on.

Tony took a giant gulp from his bottle, the cursing in his head trying to bubble out to his voice. However, Tony felt unbalanced enough for the evening, so he tried to keep his ravings internal so neighbors didn't feel the need to call Gibbs to come check on him. (And _that_ was a shock, to open the door half-dressed, fully drunk, and find Gibbs standing there 'cause he'd told the old lady next door to call if she ever thought Tony was in trouble.)

It was a stupid thing. An utterly pointless thing to trigger this freak out. Gibbs hadn't meant anything by it. Tony'd pushed him into using words when Gibbs was a man of action, and he should've expected to get smacked down. That's why you didn't push Gibbs.

He should've known better. Should've known to leave Gibbs alone, should've known that no one was irreplaceable, and was desperately trying to shut up the voice in his head that said, 'of course _you're_ not irreplaceable. How could you be? You don't even know who you are!' Up until Gibbs, that hadn't bothered Tony. He liked being a chameleon, liked having seventeen different shades of personality, liked the layers of protection it gave him to keep himself locked up.

And now, now he was trying to keep himself from breaking down into tears like he was a hormonal twenty-year-old girl and Gibbs had just broken his heart.

But Gibbs had. He'd taken Tony in, made his heart start beating again, and then smashed the damn thing with a hammer. Again, and again, and again. This wasn't the first time Tony had gotten himself too drunk to walk straight because Gibbs had been brutal, and Tony was sure as hell it wouldn't be the last.

And masochist that Tony was, he'd always come back for more. 'Cause as wretched as Tony felt right now, in a few days Gibbs would haul him over for dinner, and they'd talk about baseball and why Tony thought Gibbs should watch more hockey, and Tony would hold out hope that some day, together they'd teach Gibbs not to be an emotionally abusive bastard.

And Tony could hold out for that.


End file.
